#i felt a lill silly

[x215]

Alright here's the info dump

Rwby spoliers ahead

okay so the two brother gods are both the God of light and dark these are gonna be Wu and Garmadon, we know that the tree aka the blacksmith created them so by default it'll be the first spinjitzu master, he created the ever after in this case the first relem to be a starting project for his sons and thus they began to create just like in cannon in this case the dragons would be the equivalent to the curios cat and the oni the jaberwalkers. Both of the sons/gods were made to be dragon and oni beings made to create and destroy. And so they created the door and were sent on a mission create the 16 relems with the last one being the home relem of ninjago/remnant and so everything plays out the same salem throws a tantrum at the gods and then she gets the people to try and kill the gods. And then they all die. After a few thousand years and salem being a bitch baby bro she tries to go into disctron goop and becomes a fake oni. So we get to the main time and ozma is still cannon, we have Wu creating the elemental masters by being able to grant him the element of creation, while Garmadon fed up turns evil and doesn't flaunt his God hood. Instead he mipulates and controls from the shadows, he eventually leaves that behind when he is found out by the last elemental master aka Koko is the current elemental master of creation. Creation is the only one that is random all the other elements work like the madainsthis is how all of the elemental btw, the last sentence preson who is able to handle the power of said element is the new elemental master. So yes lloyd is born and Garmadon is his father and we get sensai Garmadon so we get some fluff. Lloyd is like the first humans of rement able to use magic although it's not much and he doesn't know how to use it, he does have an aura and a semblance just like the rest of the world. The more Minor elemental masters only have a very small amount of magic and their transfers operate in the same way. The great war did happen and ozma is the same

Lloyd is from argus and he always thought he was a bull fanus but it was his dragon horns from his father. He is a dargononi and like his father he has a fully non human form wich is a dragon he still has oni form but can't unlock it as he doesn't actively seek to distory unlike his father along with that he only knows about his mother being a retired huntress

Kai and nya are from mistral and both become elemtal masters at 10 and 7 after their parents forfit their powers with nya being in the last thing in her mother's thoughts and kai being the last in father's thoughts their parents were taken by salem

Jay became an elemental master when he was born and is from vale still the elemental master of lightning

Zane is from altas and is similar to penny and is the elemental master of ice through an aura transfer

Morro is alive and is the elemental of wind and is planing on transferring his powers onwards

Sora is a mankune cat fanus and is from atlas she has a prostic arm and tail along with that she became an elemental master about volume 7 and is not aware about her powers

Wildfyre is one half of the elemental master of heat and is still salty about cinder being the other half of the elemental master of heat, she is a kimono dargon faunus and is from manjarie her trait is the vemon of a kimono dargon. She only knows about cinders whole thing in voulme 5 after trying to get to anima aka mistrial

Cinder is the other half of the elemental master of heat and stole it from the former master the other half of the power. She only finds out about Wildfyre in voulme 5

Arin is a human from vale whose parents went missing after volume 3 and his aurua is below average and he has a quick learing semblance

[kitt-katsu]

[random-things-of-mine]

𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 

Swarm Wally x GN Reader

Warning: Angst

- - - - -

Y/n was climbing down a tree, their foot slipped off a branch making them tumble down. The only positive was that they wheren't that high up.

The fall was rough but nothing was broken.

Right??

"Did I seriously sprain my ankle, ughhh-"

They groaned, rubbing the sore spot. Now it would be longer before they got back home. Speaking of that they really needed to hurry as it was getting late.

Everyone warned them not to enter these woods.

And yet Y/n did, being a defiant lill shit that liked breaking the rules.

"And I'm lost... why am I like this?" 

Y/n stared at the trees, everything looked the same. They leaned against one the identical things, trying to think of a new tactic to get back to the main path.

A butterfly appeared landing on their nose.

Oh.

OH.

It was a pretty one. 

The butterfly was a dark red color, the top part of it's wings looked like it contained eyes but it was just the pattern giving that illusion.

"Are you my new friend?" They asked the lill creature in a silly voice.

"They could be your friend, they seem to like you."

Y/n turned their neck around, a bit to quickly causing neck pain and the butterfly to flutter away. It didn't stray far, it flew towards the stranger that startled them.

They where to focused rubbing their own neck, trying to ease the pain away from moving so fast to notice he stepped closer.

"You can refer to me as Swarm." He spoke up, his eyes locked on them with a odd fixation.

Suddenly there where more butterflies, surrounding the two people. Some attached themselves to the puppet and human and others just kept on flying in a swarm of their own.

"They seem to like you.”

"Damn there are a lot... like A LOT."

It's a bit intimidating how many there are.

Swarm seemed to be communicating with all the flying insects, they where fluttering happily around his head.

Y/n saw the red butterfly from earlier approach them again, it seemed to want something from them.

It allowed you to pet it, buzzing in delight once you did so.

"Yes, I... we've decided. We like you to come with us. Our home." He spoke up again.

"My mama taught me not to go with strangers to their houses or vans."

Y/n bluntly stated, at this point they didn't get a good vibe from this forest... or him. Even if it sounded rude. Swarm smiled at them, it wasn't a very nice or comforting one. He stared at them eerily, it felt predatory almost.

"I think I should take my leave..."

"Hmm you see I have a thing for collecting precious things, I'd like to add you to my collection."

…

AHEM WHAT??

"I KINDLY refuse."

Alright time to make a run for it... with your sprained ankle and non athletic build.

Y/n didn't even manage to run a few meters as the swarm of butterflies started to flock around them. 

All out to get them, they attached themselves to their clothes, hair, skin. They where in clear distress as butterflies crawled into and onto their mouth, nose and ears.

They never had a fear of insects but this was making them violently trash around on the ground in a desperate attempt to get them off.

"Don't be like that my precious, it would be better if you came willingly." He said, seemingly not bothered by the scene, worse even he looked amused.

"Get them off me! Get them off!" They panicked, every time they swatted away one of the tiny attackers two others took it's place.

They where everywhere!

Y/n couldn't breath as they had crawled into their mouth, they attempted to spit them out but it didn't work. 

So they bit down on the butterflies, it left a bitter taste in their mouth.

"Don't be like that, my lovelies only want to be as close as possible to you, won't you let them?"

Swarm looked almost... disappointed that they where resisting so much, hurting his butterflies, which was hurting him as well.

Y/n couldn't focus on his words or expression as they felt one of the butterflies crawl onto one of their eyes.

More specifically it was trying to go inside your eye.

Their pained and horrified shouts echoed through the forest. He waited for them to faint, before picking them up in his arms.

"I'm gonna love and cherish you~ We all are."

Y/n awoke, gasping for air like a fish of the dry land gasped for water. Their throat was dry and raspy from the screaming.

Wait screaming...

No.

No.

NO.

Their vision was blurry, their body was bruised and hurting in many different places.

They remembered the traumatic event that took place earlier. When they recognized that familiar feeling of tiny little creatures climbing over them they started hyperventilating.

Your new ptsd was kicking in. Lovely.

Before Y/n could swat any of them away, Swarm held them back. 

Hé had placed them onto the couch in his cabin, his butterflies had nestled themselves into their hair and onto their body.

They where like a cozy blanket of living creatures. When he noticed they awoke he leaned over uncomfortably close.

"You looked so pretty when you where unconscious, it makes me wanna preserve your beautiful self."

"Wha-"

They looked at him if he was crazy. Wanting to curse him out for involuntary bringing them here and letting his creatures attack them but pain made it difficult get out any sounds.

They felt something moving in their left eye.

"My~ It seems one of my lovelies wanted to make a nest in your eye. This one particularly attached to you." He said, almost adoringly.

Y/n felt close to fainting again as a red familiar butterfly crawled out of their eye socket. Swarm pulled them close to his chest, starting to stroke their head like one would do to a favored pet.

You didn't like butterflies anymore was your last thought before blacking out.

- - - - -

[hepbaestus]

Just some thoughts about the past year for me :)

This may get a lil deep, I'm writing this at 11pm while procrastinating revision, so it's going under a read more.

If you had told me that over a year ago I would've joined a fandom that absolutely changed my life during one of the worst periods of my life, I would have laughed. I wouldn't have believed you at all.

These past 14 months have been the greatest time of my life when it comes to being part of a fandom; I'd never really properly interacted with many people in the fandoms I was in so it always seemed quite isolating. I think of it like when you're in a car and it's late at night, you're passing lots of bright adverts that you can't fully engage with as you're passing by so quickly and it's so late that you're very sleepy.

It was just me in my little corner of the internet (i know, such a commonly used phrase) enjoying myself.

And then the qsmp started, literally a day after my life went to shit and I found solace and comfort in the early days of the server depsite not engaging much because of travelling and shitty hotel wifi, when the eggs were brand new. I was a Phil main so I'd been a crow for a while and I wanted to branch out, to spread my wings if you'd allow me a singular bird pun. So who did I branch out to?

Another white man in his 30s /aff.

Now I don't remember much of my first few months in Fit's chat, I could probably look back at the vods and see that I was likely a chronic lurker, rarely chatting. But once I'd gotten comfortable and subbed, his chat became like another little comfort nook on the internet for me.

Seeing Fit and Ramón, and how they treated each other was something very healing for me, not to be too parasocial but it definitely mended some of the father issues I had. It's such a joy, to this day, to be in his chat and chill and I'm very glad that I joined at the time that I did and then, as time went on, I genuinely found comfort in just chilling in Fit's chat no matter what the content.

The people I've met, like Shen, Lills and Pen just to name a few, are some of the greatest people that I have the honour of talking to and it's because of the server that I get to do that. I've genuinely made friends in a fandom like I had never before and they're all so cool and talented and I feel like I'm just little old me, you know?

I was introduced to streamers that I'd never heard of, languages that I wouldn't hear in my day to day life outside of the streams and it was so special. I'll never forget the nights I stayed up extra late watching Cellbit play Hollow Knight or live blogging through the Fitpac date. They're all such treasured memories that I hope I'll hold for the rest of my life.

Now because of this server, I have what is probably (outside of my irl friendships) the longest relationship I've ever had. Admittedly that's with the Portuguese Duolingo Owl but eh, 486 days of learning Portuguese after wanting to all my life after not being taught it my own Portuguese dad, is something that I'm proud of. (This is me trying to inject some humour into this slightly sad piece of writing. Is it working?).

This isn't me saying goodbye to the qsmp fandom, I'm still gonna be here being silly and posting angsty posts and fics. It is, afterall, what got me out of a major writing slump. This is more of a see you later to the server (and whatever '2' may mean), I think. There may not be something like what the server was meant to be for a while after everything that happened so I feel like I should give it a little send off, you know?

I didn't really have an idea of where this was meant to go, I was kind of just writing whatever came to mind and how I felt but I'm glad my life is what it is, despite everything that I've gone through. And that couldn't be without the people I've interacted with, talked to and shared thoughts with.

So thank you <3

[kamiversee]

oh em gee this whole fic has such a grasp on me??? i literally read this in one go and i have never felt more emotions in one sitting. AND HELLO? GOJO? CHOSO? who do i pick fr😝 but trust me its only because of how you write gojo because if this was a real life situation, i’m sending him to a fucking psychologist.

Anywho, I love how beautifully written your writing is to the point where it feels like I’m watching a MOVIE. I never want this fic to end and it’s definitely one of my favorites so far! Now, to talking about gojo and choso😈

I genuinely am so torn between the two. I know Gojo is straight up an obsessive manipulative weirdo who people try so hard to defend even though what he’s doing is so wrong?? and im not even gonna lie, sometimes i want to agree with them bc cmon..its my blue eyed princess :( and can you blame us when the way you write him is so core throbbing?? But regardless, I guess I have some sort of self respect to realize he’s very much CRAZY. But I still really want there to be a happy ending where he’s involved. I just really can’t help feeling like I need to defend gojo and his actions but i wont because yeah he’s terrribleeee😭 part of me still wants gojo=endgame though!

BUTTTTT, that does not mean we have to drag my beautiful husband choso down with us ?? Cmon now you guys, yes the tattoo was a little off and the apartment thing was a lill sus but choso still offered to get the tattoo removed AND there could be a reasonable explanation as to how he got back inside mc’s apartment. You gojo girlies just want to defend gojo so bad that you think flaming on my silly little guy choso will help with proving your delusions🙄.

AND WOOOW THIS RECENT CHAPTER?? Gojo almost made me feel bad for him..until he thought about blackmailing us again?? Like sir. And then that little moment with lord core throbber sukuna?? That was so very wholesome. Talking about wholesome, choso is just such a sweet boy isnt he?☹️ I am a choso defender for life, especially after how he talks to the reader. Also, I don’t really know what to make of Yuki and Choso..like i get what reader must be feeling but wasn’t she just kissing gojo like a second ago? But i can see where she’s coming from especially after having to put her feelings for gojo aside just so she can finally be with Choso and then she finds out that he’s hanging around with a girl he used to fuck around with? It’s all very very interesting indeed. AND KAMI. THE CLIFFHANGER?😓 I NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS NEXT IM GOING INSANEEE.

Anyways, enough of my rant❤️ and can i claim “🐼” anon?

-🐼

Oh how I eat these long messages UPPPPP😩

1. TYSM IM GLAD U ENJOYED !!

2. I love that this felt like a movie for you, I personally ADORE movies & entertainment so it rlly strikes my heart nicely that I was able to give you tht feel through my silly lil fic <3

3. Gojo girlies are insane, there’s absolutely no saving or getting through to them.

And 4. The parallels babes, the parallels. Just as Gojo is to the reader, the reader is to Choso (to some extent)

& OFC U CAN CLAIM THT ANON ITS SO CUTE >.<

[yoonjinsgirl]

Hey guys!!! I'm new here I've been a reader all my life and something inside me wanted to try out writing fics and imagines and then no longer i could hold my wish so finally I've decided to hop on!! I'm gonna try my best!!! I'll be happy to take requests for hyungline (ot⁷ but my biasline is hyungline) and suggestions are welcomed!!!💜

*Also me being a hopeless romantic my choice of writing would mostly be fluff!!! I love reading fics/imagines which are warm, comforting with a lill bit angst so hell yeah will be including them!! About smut I'm not so sure rn!*

So now getting back to this fic or oneshot whatever you call it!! It's nothing much nor i think it makes any sense, It's just a tweet i came across on twitter and my comment gave me the idea to write this!!!💜

****************************♡******************************

You shutting me up like that is so sexy!

Yoongi x Reader

Summary : you and yoongi start bickering while watching iu palette when things start to turn up pretty serious!

Warnings : could be a lill bit of angst! And fluff ofcourse!

A/N : this is my first time writing, i apologize in advance for any mistakes. Please give your feedbacks to me! It would mean alot to me!!💜

Request are open & highly welcomed and appreciated!💕

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

After a long day at work you come home to be suprised to see your idol boyfriend who is already home, comfortably lying down on couch watching something on television! Suprised because his new album is releasing soon and he has been super busy with his work schedules, mostly spending days at his studio. You were so..so happy to see him home because you missed him being around you so much and now that he was home you felt so good, your body already relaxing after looking at him.

"Y/n i know I'm hot you don't have to stare me like that"

That's when you realize, while you were so lost in your thoughts and suprised to see him home, you had no idea you've been unintentionally staring at him from too long!

You mentally face palmed yourself and your cheeks turn red, and a silly smile on your smile appears as you say "aish aren't you being too much yoongs? I see you've lately been in company with jinnie isn't it! Also what's wrong in staring at the man whom I'm in love with and hell yeah he's hot so why not" you say trying to act cool and shrugging off.

He chuckles a little on how your face can never hide anything, beside your red cheeks all visible to him, he gets ups from the couch walking closer to you and handling you a glass of water, "I'm so satisfied, my intentions succeeded on surprising you tonight bby! Don't shy away i can clearly see it on your face, i know how much you've missed me! so have i love! I know i haven't been giving you enough time because of busy schedules, so i decided to come home early and order a take-out so need for any of us to cook, we both can relax, now go get freshen up quickly, I'm waiting for you hmnn" you immediately hugged him, "you know i love you yoonie" you were always so thankful for getting someone like him in your life who has always been so loving, caring and understanding!

He immediately hugged you back and placed a kiss on your forehead "hmnn i know that, i love you too, now go get changed and come quickly I'm waiting for you"

To which you happily nodded went to get freshen up and undoubtedly came out quickly, rushing out wanting to just be beside him. When you came out he was already serving food near the coffee table across television, you walked up and tried to help him to which he nodded into no and pulled you towards him and quickly gave you peck and made you sit down and later sat down next you.

"So what are we watching today yoon" you asked him, "umnn it's 10 (of april) today should we watch that new show we were talki.." "aaaahhhhhhhhh wtf" you screamed cutting him off before he could even complete his sentence. Making him blush a little as he knew what exactly made you scream like that, he loved how you were always so excited about his work, how you cared about slightest thing related to him, how you were still a part of his bts army and you were proud of being one. "omggggg how could i forget it's 10april today.. omgggg the episode of you on iu palette will be releasing today! How could i forget it omggg please play it! I'm already 3 hours late yoongs" you said practically pouting now, he laughed trying to hide his now flushed cheeks, "y/niee it's okay! you were at work anyways. You can watch it later on if you want." "Whattttt noooo, ofcourse not yoongs! pretty please i wanna watch it now, you've no idea how excited I'm" you said again pouting, yoongi knew how much things related to him mattered to you always, also there's no escaping you while you talk like that to him, pouting without your knowledge, and how soft he was for you. "Aishhh okay" he said and put up the show and you were enjoying the show already, it was so fun watching yoongi bicker with iu, he was practically being a brat to his friend of same age! You giggled and laughed wholeheartedly.

Only untill IU said how she loved the MV of Daechwita from his mixtape D-2 and your boyfriend being the pro at teasing and bickering asked her teasing back that if she meant she only liked MV and not his music and iu being totally taken back unable to come up with a comeback, tbh she didn't mean any of that, she respected and definitely appreciated yoongi's work alot. You gasped and hit your boyfriend playfully "yahhh you... you're being super annoyingly bratty! what's wrong with complimenting MV, you know how grand it was and how you acted so well, so well that you literally got offers to act yoongs?"

"wdym y/n what about my music, is it bad? Is that what you mean??" he looked pretty serious to what he looked questioning you "ofcourse not yoons what are you even saying! don't i always say your music has kept me going through in my life!!" "Be honest y/n i can take your criticism if there's something you don't like about my music" you could see how his smile had dropped from his face and how his eyes looked sad as if he was controlling his emotions. You felt awful, your heart breaked and you felt your body leaving your soul, you unintentionally hurt him, and now you were hurt coz' wtf how could you possibly make him feel so bad, the man who made you the happiest, whose music was all you had to get strength from during your worst day. His music which let you keep going in your past, how did you ended up hurting him you hated yourself right now for spoiling his mood, for spoiling the effort your boyfriend had made especially for you, so that you don't feel unloved, because he saw how lonely you felt without him around you. How you wanted his attention to you but you let it go and smiled everytime coz you knew how much he loved his work and it made him the happiest, and his happiness mattered you the most.

You immediately took his hands in your palm "Yoonieeeeee NO.. there's nothing that i not like about your music, how could you think like that yoongles when your music is all that i keep listening to all of time! Have i not told you, before we came together i always felt your presence through your music, i felt comforted through it, it felt like you were there with me the whole time just right beside me, there were days where i didn't knew where to go? Whom to talk about? Whom to cry out my pain..my hurting and i would switch to your music and it felt like a warm hug to me" tears starting to form in your eyes as you remembered those hard days. Since then what you felt for him and music was purely love.

You continued "Yoonieeeeeee never say or think i don't like your works, i love them, you know i survived because of it, i survived because of your music, bts's music, you and members, i..i..I'm so sorry yoons, what did i do to deserve you, trust me yoongs i didn't mean it that way, i was just being playful, but see I'm such a bad girlfriend yoon, i..i"

"y/nieeee..." yoongi cupped your face when he noticed how tears were rolling down your face and how it looked liked you are gonna break down any moment now. You looked down not knowing how to look into his eyes, afraid to look at him hurt and the worst reason behind that would be you, yoongi understanding it immediately, softy made you look up at him. Your eyes meet his eyes soft for your, showing how concerned he was, his love clearly visible, "yoons i know i suck, i suck at being funny atp, i should never said anything like that to you, not atleast when you're already so stressed about your new album, but trust me i was only trying to be playful, only if i could prove to you i would have done it, tell me how do you want me prove it, i swear i didn't mean to hurt you it pains me to watch you hurt and see what i.." "shushhhhhh bby don't cry hmnn.. I'm so sorry that i let out my stress overtake like this" he said while wiping off tears from your face, "I'm so so.." "shushhhhhhh no nahhhhh never uhmhmmn, it was my fault you don't have to be s..sorry yoonieee.. you know what I'm gonna prove it you" you said while suddenly getting up out of nowhere.

Yoongi getting visibly tensed on wdym you'll prove it to him and where the hell did you disappear? Before he could get up and check up on you, you came running up to him and making him sit back at his place as you sat across him in between his legs, he looked utterly confused and curiosity taking over him he looked at you holding your phone in your hand and giving it to him, "what bby? What shall i see or look, he chuckled a little, "i know its samsung, we bought it together silly" you chuckled slightly on how can he just randomly joke about his love for samsung during a situation like this, but then there he was, and that's exactly how he's, the most cutest, loving and understanding boyfriend that he has always been, he knows how to clear the tension in the air, "i told you right that if i could prove it to you i would have, so i thought why not i actually prove it yoons! Here you can check for yourself" you said handing him the phone "y/n you're joking right? How can your phone prove it bby! Also i know you didn't mean anything, it was my fault, i was stressed earlier that's why i couldn't give you enough of attention all this times, instead of that i choosed to ignore it and tried to act cool, only if i had shared with you, this wouldn't h..." before he could continue any further you immediately closed the distance between you and kissed him on his lips to shut him up and surely it worked, you giggled while kissing him and pulled out shortly.

"Yoonieee i told you to shushhhhhh didn't i? You aren't at fault okay! If you don't admit then we both are.. "but y/ni.." "sshushhhhhh MIN YOONGIIII! just look up here.. these are my Spotify stats you can see your stats for suga/agustd and how much i love your music, i listen to it all the time because my life depends on it, like it's air and if i don't take it i might not survive! And do you see this DAECHWITA, PEOPLE & AGUSTD my kings being top of all tracks? Hmmm you see right! Yoongsss you're my light in my darkness and i.." before you could say anything yoongi just pulled you into biggest and warmest hug ever, giving you tiny kisses all over your shoulder to neck and finally pulling you out and kissing you all over your face, where temporary marks of tears had formed and at last giving you a sweet peck on your lips.

You once again gave him a silly smile as you looked into his eyes staring with all the love you had within you for this man, the perfect one who completed you, no matter if you had silly fights or a misunderstanding like today, you always loved him truly with all your soul and heart and same goes for him, he loved you so deeply that you could never even imagine of. You had fell in love with him first but he surely felt harder in love with you.

"Yahhhhh hajimaaaa! Why are you looking at me like that! Aishhhhh!!! What's with that silly smile of yours uh-huhhh??"

Yoongi questioned to you as he suddenly felt all shy against you staring him like that, your boyfriend was indeed a softie at heart afterall, you smiled at him your cheeks being flushed too atp, with all the love and kisses yoongi showered you with just a min ago, nothing coming out of your mouth as you find yourself turn into puddle yourself, you shift closer to him closing the tiniest gap between you two, you finally replying him,

"YOU SHUTTING ME UP LIKE THAT IS SO SEXY!"

[et-lesailes]

release

pairing: andy barber x reader

word count: 2978

summary: for obvious reasons, andy is incredibly stressed. you never thought you, his young neighbor, would be the one he wants to take it all out on.

themes: age gap, smut

taglist: @evanstush, @tanyam93, @bval-1, @wonderwinchester, @patzammit, @rohaintahquil, @deidrashouseofpain, @sammyslonglostshoe, @jadedhillon, @bohemian-barbie, @whysparker, @sebastian-i-stan, @sebabestianstan101, @lille-kattunge, @teller258316, @peach-acid, @allsortsofinterests, @xoxabs88xox, @heyiamthatbitch​, @cptn-sgrogers​, @heyyouwiththeassbutt​, @bangtan-serendipity​, @troublermalik​, @beardburnsupersoldiers​, @hannie-stark, @bookish-shristi​, @kind-sober-fullydressed​, @whores4thor, @gingerninjaprincess16​, @straightforwardly​,  @denisemarieangelina​,  @frencchfries​, @xlanawriter​, @littlemoistcarrot​, @pottxrwolff​, @arianatheangelworld​, @ifuseekamyevans​, @southerngracela​, @nsfwsebbie​, @rororo06​, @savemesteeb​, @raveviolet​, @inactivewhore​, @hurricanerinwrites​

notes: HELLO IT’S ME YOUR VILLAGE IDIOT WRITING ABOUT A CHARACTER I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT! graphic creds go to the amazing @allthefandomstogether​ !!!! :)

His scowl is tense, his blue eyes stormy, and his jawline clenched. He’s wearing a dark tee and black jeans, his biceps practically bulging underneath the short sleeves. He’s generally sharp and refined as it is, but ever since his 14 year old son was arrested for murder, his demeanor, understandably, has become much more harsh. 

He moves his head and you quickly cast your eyes back down onto the dining table, placing your hands together. “Andy,” your father reaches over to pat his shoulder, looking just as stressed. “We’re going to do whatever we can to help you. Jacob will get out of there. Okay?” Andy doesn’t even look at him- instead, he’s looking towards the window with the troubled expression that’s become his norm, as if Jacob will come strolling up the path. As if his wife will pull up in the driveway again even though everyone knows she’s most likely staying at her sister’s for quite some time. The strain has been too much for her, and Andy has changed entirely. These days, he seems almost… dangerous. You can see it in his eyes- he’s getting desperate. He’ll do anything to get his son in the clear, whether he committed the crime or not. 

“Do you want more?” you offer to break the awkward silence, lifting up the container of pasta you and your father had brought over to his house. Andy looks to you, shaking his head and clearing his throat. “No. Thank you though, Y/N. You made it, didn't you? It tasted good.” You give him a smile, happy to hear the compliment. Anything you can do to make your neighbor’s mood better. You’ve known Andy and his family since you were a teenager, and now as a 23 year old, you want to return all the support and thoughtfulness he’s given you. “Thanks. I’m glad you like it.” You stand up, cocking your head. “If you’re all done then, how about I help clean up?”

Your father nods with a smile. “That’s a good idea, sweetheart.” He glances down at his watch and sighs. “I’ve got to meet with my boss at the office in twenty minutes, I should probably head out now. You stay and help Andy, alright?” You nod and he leans down to kiss your cheek. “Thanks, Y/N. I’ll see you back home later.” He gives Andy a somewhat sad smile, a sigh escaping his lips. “Please, buddy. Hang in there. We’re going to figure this out, I promise.” Andy barely nods, giving the man a brief thanks and a hug goodbye.

He leaves the house and you barely bite your lip, but start bringing empty dishes to the sink to rinse them off. “Do you have enough food?” you ask, turning your head over your shoulder to look at him. “I have some free time this weekend, I’d be happy to make you some more…”

He’s quiet for a few moments before he steps closer to you. “I don’t need food, Y/N.” He mutters, running his fingers through his brown hair, his features filled with nothing but tension. “I don’t need food, I don’t need sympathy-- you know, I don’t even need my wife.” You’re about to wash the dishes but you sense a whole new level of gravity to this conversation, and so you slowly turn around to face him. “I… Are you two getting divorced, then? I thought you were just taking some time apart… you know, temporarily.” Andy and Laurie had always seemed like such an amazing couple to you, especially considering your own parents were divorced. Their love for Jacob was immense, and they always looked so happy to you as a whole. You supposed experiencing such a traumatic incident could change that.

“I don’t want to be with her anymore.” He speaks bluntly, coming to stand next to you and leaning against the counter, blue hues looking back towards the window. “She doesn’t get me the way I thought she did.” You look up at him, feeling strangely intimidated- something you had never felt around him before. “Andy,” you speak quietly, “do you think maybe that’s because… you’ve changed?” 

There’s a silence for a few seconds, and you wonder if you’ve gone too far. He’s still looking to the window, but he looks as though he’s pondering over this thought. “I’m sorry.” You finally say, clearing your throat and turning to the sink. “I shouldn’t have said that, I know this is a hard time for you. For all of us. Let me finish up he-”

“No.�� Before you know it, his hands are on your waist, spinning you back around so that you’re facing him, his own body now completely turned towards you. “Tell me, Y/N. Do you think I’ve changed?” His voice is lower, his eyes locked onto yours, his grip securing your hips tightly. You widen your eyes slightly, thrown off to say the least. You’d be lying if you said you’d never had the silly little daydream of being this close to Andy Barber, let alone being in his arms. Even as a 16 year old, you had somewhat of a puppy crush on the older man, finding his chiseled features, perfectly groomed facial hair, and built stature incredibly handsome. Still, you had never felt anything more for him- you couldn’t even allow yourself to. He’s your neighbor, one of your father’s close friends-- hell, he’s a father himself, of a boy you used to babysit.

But even throughout the years of slightly crushing on him, a scenario like this had never quite exactly popped into your head.

“Maybe a little,” you whisper, staring up into his eyes somewhat nervously. You practically don’t recognize the man you’re looking at. However, you aren’t scared of him. You’re scared of what he must be feeling, of everything he’s going through. He’s not dangerous. He’s helpless, he’s afraid, he’s in despair. “But I don’t blame you for changing. I think it’s just because of everything you’re dealing with.” You explain, slowly placing your hands over his. “Andy, maybe you should… let go…”

“Do you know what I need, Y/N?” he asks suddenly, still holding you tight, and you remember your conversation just a few moments ago. Not food, not sympathy, and not even his wife. “What?” you ask softly, your heart pounding. He leans down and you nearly shiver; his lips are mere inches away from yours, his breath warm and almost taunting. “I need a fucking release.” He mutters through slightly clenched teeth, and you can see the vein in his neck slightly bulging. He’s angry. He’s sunk. He’s in need.

“Okay.” You find yourself breathing out, and that’s all he needs. A husky growl escapes from deep within his throat as he crashes his lips against yours, hands pulling your body even closer until it’s pressed up against his. It isn’t long before he’s simply scooping you up into his arms, lips still connected in a heated kiss as he brings you to the living room, though you quickly make a whimper of protest before he can toss you onto the couch. “W-wait,” you practically gasp as you pull back, already breathless, “not here, the… the window…” Your cheeks are bright red as you glance towards the large living room window, the thought of your father or even any neighbor seeing the two of you making you beyond uncomfortable. You already can’t believe you’re doing this, but you have to admit, his kiss in itself is more than convincing. You can’t help but want more.

He seems like he wants to chuckle, and you know the old Andy would have shown at least some form of amusement. This one, however, seems to be running on some type of agenda, and so he simply nods with a somewhat impassive face. “As you wish.” He murmurs, easily carrying you up the stairs and to the bedroom. You feel guilty once again knowing that he once shared this room with Laurie, but when he practically throws you upon the mattress and crawls over you to kiss you again with even more intensity than before, this guilt goes flying out the window. For now, anyways. You kiss him back just as fiercely, moving your hands to run your fingers through his beard and his soft, soft hair, back arched desperate for the feeling of his hips against yours.

“Fuck,” he mumbles shortly as he moves his open mouth down to your neck, biting and sucking roughly. “A-Andy!” you let out a high pitched hiss, gripping his hair, “N-not too rough, don’t… don’t leave any marks…” He nips at your shoulder in response, moving one of his hands down to rub against your clothed entrance. “How many boys have you slept with before, Y/N?” he murmurs huskily into your skin, teeth still teasing your sensitive flesh. You can’t help but moan, your eyes fluttering shut as you enjoy the pressure of his fingers in your lower region. “Only… only one…” you mumble softly, somewhat embarrassed- you’ve got to be far more inexperienced compared to him. “And how old was he? Your age?” he asks, finally pulling back to look down at you with a look so intense, you don’t even realize he’s pushing down your pants. “A year older- o-oh!!” you cut off your own answer with a moan when you feel his digits pressing up against your now damp panties, rolling your hips unable to help yourself. “You’re already wet for me.” He notes, kneading at the wet spot roughly with his knuckle making you whimper. “Naughty girl. Is fucking a man nearly twice your age a fantasy of yours?” Your cheeks turn bright red as you stare up at him somewhat flustered, having no idea how to answer this. He raises a brow, hooking two fingers in your panties and tugging them down, his thumb now moving to rub your clit. “I asked you a question.”

“Mm…!” you moan, your breaths becoming heavier. “N-not just any man…” 

He smirks, and you’re expecting him to pry the rest of the answer out of you, but it seems he’s satisfied enough. You can also sense he’s not all that interested in talking at the moment, anyways. He pushes one finger inside you and your whimpers become more high pitched, your head tilting back. “Oh… oh, Andy,” you moan, and he clucks his tongue, pumping harder. “You’re fucking tight. I’m going to need to stretch you out a bit if you’re going to fit me.” 

You gaze at him with slightly wide eyes, your lips parted and your cheeks flushed. “Wh-what do you…” you start to ask, but instead let out a gasp when he pushes another finger inside, your teeth tugging at your lip hard. “Mmn…!” He pumps both inside you at a steady pace, watching you with dark eyes. “You can take it. C’mon, Y/N.” You slowly begin moving your hips in sync with his movements, whines becoming moans of pleasure, head rolling back all over the pillow. 

A third finger slides in, and your back practically lifts off the mattress. “It’s… it’s too much…!” you whimper through shut eyes, though at the same time, you don’t want him to stop. He knows just how to maneuver his fingers, and it’s now clear that you’ve been missing out by not hooking up with older men. “How about now?” he murmurs deeply, slightly crooking his fingers and moving them expertly in rhythmic motions, finding your sweet spot as if he knew exactly how the entire time. “A-ah… fuck, right there!” you find yourself cursing, and at this, he chuckles lowly, continuing to pump in the same spot. “There you go. Come for me, Y/N, go ahead.” He practically coos, his tone oddly encouraging yet dark at the same time-- nonetheless, you release with a loud moan, your chest heaving underneath your light sweater, your skin hot and crimson. 

“Good girl.” He does not waste any time as he pulls back, and therefore you have none to get yourself together. Withdrawing his fingers, he briefly sucks on them before nodding towards you. “Take that shirt off or you’re going to overheat. I want to see all of you.” He’s already removing his own shirt, hastily reaching down to unzip his pants and remove his briefs as well. You blush but sit up, trying to control your breaths as you lift your shirt off over your head, thankful you didn’t embarrass yourself by somehow getting stuck in it. All he has to do is gaze towards your bra and arch an eyebrow expectantly; you instantly reach behind to unhook it, biting on your lip. However, when your eyes drift down to his length, they immediately widen. He’s long, and thick.

You realize what he meant before.

“Lie back down.” He commands, and you obey, though you’re still nervous. “I… just… be careful…” you somewhat pathetically manage, and he looks down at you for a few moments before barely smirking. “You don’t think I don’t know what I’m doing?” He reaches over to the nightstand, taking a condom out of the drawer and putting it on. You still can’t help but stare. There’s no way you’re coming out of this without feeling sore and aching. And yet you still feel undeniably aroused, your heart practically pounding out of your chest from desire and need. He pumps himself as he guides his shaft towards your entrance, his breath hitching as he presses up against you. “Fuck, this is going to feel so damn good.” He mumbles, pushing his hips forward and thrusting inside you with a low groan. You inhale sharply, reaching up to grip his shoulders, head tilting back once again. “Oh… mm… Andy…”

“God my name sounds good coming out of your mouth.” He scoffs, bucking his hips harder as he pushes more of his length inside you. “Fuck. You like that, Y/N? You like the way I stretch you out like this?” You can only nod weakly, his dominating thrusts soon overpowering every inch of you, rocking your body back and forth as if you’re nothing but a little doll underneath him. He was not kidding about needing a release. Every rough movement, every clench of his jaw, every grunt and groan that slips out of his throat-- he’s had pent up frustration for a long time now, and it’s evident he’s going to let it all out on you. 

He reaches out to hold the bedpost with one hand to support himself, other hand placed on the mattress by your shoulder only to swing his hips even faster, the bed now beginning to creak. “Fuck. You’re so fucking tight.” He hisses in a pleasured rasp, his breaths heavy and uneven as his knuckles begin to whiten from his tight grip. He keeps thrusting into you hard, eyes staring down at your body below him-- until he suddenly changes it up, adjusting himself so he’s on his knees before grabbing your legs and pushing them back by your head. “Flexible little thing.” He breathes out, bucking his hips roughly as he groans louder. You let out a string of intangible moans and mewls, eyes rolling back as he keeps fucking you, practically jackhammering into you at this point. “Andy! Andy, I-I’m close!” you’re practically screaming, even holding your own legs for him and digging your fingers into your own flesh as a form of release. He smirks breathlessly, shaking the sweat out of his hair as he keeps going. “Go on then,” he grunts, “come for me again.”

You release, panting heavily as you stare up at the ceiling, and he comes soon after with a low groan of satisfaction. You watch as he slowly pulls out, moving back to stand beside the bed, carefully disposing of the condom in the bin before running his fingers through his slightly graying beard. “Thank you.” He rolls his neck to either side then looks at you, and you can practically see at least some of the stress having faded away in his features. “I needed that.” You sit up, suddenly reaching out to take his arm, gently pulling him down to sit next to you. He blinks, turning his head to look at you with simultaneous confusion and curiosity. You hold his hand on your lap, rubbing his knuckles slowly. “This isn’t going to fix anything, Andy, and you know that.” You mumble softly, “But I promise. Everything will be alright. He… he’s going to be okay. And so are you.”

He looks at you for a few seconds and you’re a little nervous he’s simply going to shut you down, but he nods. “Thank you.” His words actually seem genuine, and instead of displaying frustration and hostility, he only seems… worried. Distressed. Like a true father, one with compassion, empathy, and who only wants the very best for his beloved child. 

You gently lie him down in the bed, rubbing his chest. “Get some sleep, Andy. Please.” You whisper, and he stares at you before exhaling deeply and tiredly, nodding his head. “Yeah. Yeah, I will.”

You can’t help yourself when you lean over and kiss his forehead. “I’ll… come check in on you tomorrow. Goodnight.” You pick up your clothes and leave the room, closing the door behind you. Quickly getting dressed on the landing of the stairwell, you walk downstairs and peer out the window facing your house, relieved to see your father’s car isn’t in the driveway yet. You turn off all the lights before exiting out the front door, steps light as you walk through the grass separating your driveways, entering your own home- your heart still racing. You can’t believe what you’ve done.

Furthermore, you can’t believe that you want to do it again.

[heathenarmyimagines]

Title: The Alliance

Summary: Ivar takes his betrothed to meet a very special person before they depart.

Pairing: Ivar x Reader

Taglist: @ubbesgirl, @shewolf2000, @tis-itheapplepie, @atequila, @demoncrypt1066, @greennightspider, @badbitsh13, @fireismysaftey, @minarawr, @laketaj24, @hvitserksgirl, @blahblahcookiesdoma, @fabulous-peasent, @sforsammmmmi, @minmiin1d, @courtrae89, @letsloveimagines, @tomarisela, @titty-teetee, @beyond-the-ashes@elenawrit, @mblaqgi, @whenimaunicorn, @chuflisworld, @mystruggledlife, @moose-squirrel-asstiel, @syreni-dea, @trashqueenbitch, @alykatv, @mbaku-babygirl, @perfectus-in-morte, @beyond-the-ashes, @neeadinghugs, @readsalot73, @triumphantreturnofpies, @anarchy-is-coming, @tephi101, @alicedopey, @ivarslittlebadgirl, @jtrstp, @nejijjeoroo, @charlylama, @ivartheblessed, @captstefanbrandt, @fabulouschrissi, @ivarsrideordie, @3x5gurl, @the-writer-appreciation-blog, @lolabee9, @captainfoxy22, @young-ugly-god, @im5ftbutmythroat66, @bribyyy, @irishhiggins, @cadetomlinson, @keclleon101, @slutforragnarssons, @ltkeke, @meeeeeeeeeps, @lille-kanin, @opalscarab, @ssraven7, @ivarandersen, @concretewaywardangel, @funmadnessandbadassvikings, @sharon-is-tired, @cadetomlinson, @mystruggledlife, @chuflisworld, @justmarissa97, @lol-haha-joke, @weirdly-randomly-awesome, @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanim, @idonthavehusbandsihavelovers, @alexa040004, @buckythetinman , @burntmythroatskullingmytea,@jorunnravenslayer, @two-unbeatable-beaters, @buffy-the-vampire-blogger, @arses21434, @ltkeke, @captainfoxy22, @chinduda @letsshamelessqueen-m @my-soul-is-the-moon @we-are-transcendent

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

A/N: I know, I took FOREVER to post this but at last here it is in all its non-proofread glory. I hope you all enjoy it.

His father had once told him about this ridiculous Christian thing called a miracle when he was a child, it was a word he used when describing his washing up back on Kattegat shores.

Something that is not possible.

While he did truly hate the entirety of the Christian religion and those who believed in it, Ivar didn’t know any other words to describe how he had gotten a ship ready so soon.

It was almost purely a coincidence that out of a small fleet of ships that had been used to raid in England last year one hadn’t yet been completely stripped down. So Ivar hired a large group of young able bodied men and a single experienced old timer to lead them in preparing the boat.

Of course the ship being partially prepared already didn’t mean that there was not still a lot of work to be done. They still needed rations of food, ale and drinkable water for those on board to make it to Tunisia without starving. There was also a need for even more essential things like oars, a new sail, blankets, ravens and ropes.

All these things kept Ivar in a constant state of annoyance and stress, none of which was helped by the fact that he hadn’t had much time spent with his betrothed.

While he himself was very occupied with preparing for the journey, Princess (Y/N) was preparing for the arrival.

Going over details with Ragnar and hand picking the warriors she wanted to journey back with them, as well as teaching everyone her language. 

It had already been discussed during first meal that she would teach Ivar privately on the journey so that he wouldn’t have to take time away from his preparations.

At last tonight the ship was fully stocked and prepared to make the journey to Africa. Ivar felt such a sense of relief in this moment that it was only second to the feeling of winning (Y/N)’s hand in marriage. 

He was so exhausted he nearly fainted on the docks.

But he managed to pull himself the rest of the way to his chamber and was surprised to find (Y/N) sitting in his bed.

‘Ah, a pleasant surprise.’ he said as he pulled himself up onto the mattress next to her.

‘Sorry to intrude, I just needed a minute away from everyone, it feels as if I haven’t had a moment to myself since the feast.’ she said.

‘I understand, I am glad you find comfort in my chambers, since we will be sharing it rather soon.’ Ivar sighed as he laid down.

‘Tired?’

‘Exhausted, I’m honestly wishing we could just skip the weddings and just be married at this point.’ he yawned.

‘Really?’ (Y/N) asked as she laid down beside him.

Ivar was surprised by this, a small part of him had expected that now that he was here that she would leave.

‘Yes, of course I cannot wait to meet your family, I just wish the boat was easier to prepare, or at least less tiresome.’ 

‘I understand, Sven seemed stressed when he had to prepare for the journey to bring us here. I wish I could bring you some comfort.’

‘You already are, just being here.’

‘Do you really find my company so comfortable? No nervousness?’ she asked, turning onto her side to face him a bit better.

‘Why should I be nervous?’ Ivar countered. 

‘Lots of reasons, you will soon be on a boat for the first time in your life to meet the family of the woman you will be marrying.’ she said.

‘I have wanted to be on a boat on my way to new places since I was a boy, it is only now that I have the opportunity. If anything I am thankful to you, and despite how tired I am from preparing for it, I am excited for the journey.’ Ivar said softly.

‘I am nervous.’ the princess confessed.

‘Why? I cannot imagine a woman as amazing as you being nervous.’ Ivar replied as he sat up.

‘You are the first man other than my father to be in my life, and he wasn’t in it long enough. I have never felt anything for a man, but I feel something for you Ivar. Something I have never felt before and sometimes it scares me, I think that I will not be a good enough wife to you.’ she confessed. 

‘I know you will be a great wife, Freya will guide you to be the best wife in all of Midgard.’

‘Who is Freya?’

‘Freya is Odin’s wife, the goddess of fertility...and a few other things involved in marriage.’ Ivar explained.

‘Other things?’ the princess asked in confusion as she sat up and began removing her rings from her fingers.

Ivar watched almost in a trance as she reached behind her back began to undo the laces of her dress.

‘She is also the Goddess of things like war and death.’ he said, mouth going dry as the princess began comfortably removing her dress and skirts.

‘Does war and death naturally go along with marriage?’ (Y/N) asked as she finally removed the last of her skirts.

‘No...but she is also associated with beauty, lust...and sex.’

‘Sex? I imagine that is a large part of a healthy marriage. Just another reason to feel nervous I suppose.’ she said as she got back in the bed.

‘Sorry if my disrobing made you uncomfortable, I was becoming a bit warm. May I help you out of your clothes as well...My Love?’

‘My Love?’ Ivar asked, deciding not to answer her request to undress him.

‘My mother used to call my father her Love, when I was a girl I couldn’t wait to say that to someone, but then I began training and it took over my mind to the point that I forgot about my silly little dream.’ she said as she began tugging at Ivar’s tunic.

It seemed she had taken his silence as compliance and decided to just go ahead and undress him, and Ivar was too stunned to fight it. So he raised his arms and let her pull the material over his head.

‘I used to listen to my parents call each other all sorts of things, very rarely anything nice.’ Ivar said quietly as he began to become self conscious.

(Y/N) was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and her naked body was a blessing to behold, and he knew she would never find such a beauty in his broken bones.

‘I noticed, I always knew that all marriages were not out of love, but all the ones I have seen normally have a bit more...respect between them. I imagine a lot of anger has been between your mother and father, I’m sure they each have reasons.’ she said as she stood in front of him

‘They have plenty of reasons, they share them quite often, I’m sure you will find out once we are officially married. They will grow tired of acting civil quite quickly once they no longer need to impress you. Pretty soon my mother will be complaining drunkenly to you while my father seethes.’ he tried to joke to mask the way he flinched when she went to remove his pants.

The princess saw his tenseness and stilled her motions.

‘I want to see them Ivar...I want to see you. I am to be your wife and you are to be my husband. You belong to me just as I belong to you, please let me see you.’ she asked.

‘You are kind...and naive. I can look at you and see that  you have never felt disgust; true and complete disgust, the kind that makes you want to turn away so that when your stomach lurches you don’t have to worry about adding your sick to an already unpleasant sight. I do not want you to feel such a thing for me yet.’ 

‘I would never find you disgusting, you are the man who bested me in combat. What about you could be disgusting? Your strength, your character?’

‘My legs, more than once I’ve seen women look away from me in favor of my brothers.’ Ivar said.

‘I have never favored your brothers, not to say I do not like them. They are not attractive to me physically, but your spirit....I’ve never seen anything so beautiful and magnificent.’ (Y/N) said holding Ivar’s face gently in her hands.

‘You are only saying that, and I appreciate it, but I assure you once we reach Tunisia you can pick any man you like to come back with us. To satisfy your needs that I never could.’ Ivar replied sadly as he tried to turn away.

‘No man, no matter if his skin was as black as war paint and his dreadlocks flowed down his back like rain, could ever have a spirit as great as you.’ she swore, keeping her hold firm on him, making him meet her eyes.

She tried to make her sincerity pour out of her brown eyes, so that her intended could be assured that he had no reason to feel insecure. She felt no disgust toward him and she had no desire to lay with any man other than the one she was to be married to.

Ivar did not look away this time, instead he just looked at her, searching for any of the signs that she was lying. Her eyes didn’t shift, her eyebrows didn’t twitch and her face didn’t tense up...she was telling the truth.

She really didn’t find him repulsive, and that was a reality that he was almost unprepared to accept.

‘May I undress you...my Love?’ she asked again.

‘Yes.’ he said so quietly that even he barely heard it.

She unlaced his trousers, slowly so that if Ivar truly wished for her to stop he could let her know. Despite how he was gripping tightly at the furs on his bed, he did not push her hands away and easily raised his hips so that she could pull them down.

Once the pants had been removed she stood and took in the sight before her, Ivar’s legs looked truly broken...practically tortured.

‘In Tunisia we have so much gold that if we really wanted we could boast being one of the wealthiest kingdoms in all of Africa, but we don’t. In all honesty...we don’t value it at this point, obviously we know everyone else does but do you know what we truly value?’ the princess asked as she kneeled before Ivar just as she had when she proposed the Matrimonial Fight.

‘We value this.’ she said running her fingers over one of the many scars over Ivar’s right leg.

‘Scars, we cherish them. They show what a person has been through; how they have lived and how hard they have fought to keep living. Some warriors wear scars to show how many kills they have made and how many battles they have fought. I believe the Great and Many Spirits gave you the scars in advance because you are destined to see many victories.’ the princess began.

‘We bleed our people, a scar will show their loyalty and their endurance. I was born into a royal bloodline, so other than minor scrapes from training I have had no scars...until these.’

(Y/N) ran her hand over the scar where he cut her chest when she had proposed the fight, then the one on her shoulder that claimed her as his bride to be.

‘These scars were given to me by you, do you know what that means Prince Ivar of Kattegat?’

Not trusting himself to speak without his voice shaking, Ivar shook his head.

‘It means that I am fated by the Spirits to endure you, no matter what you do I will be at your side. You can not scare me away Ivar, you can’t push me into the arms of another. You are mine to endure, just as I am yours...My Love.’

If her words weren’t enough to move him to tears then her leaning down to place a kiss on the scar she had been touching certainly was.

He tried to cover his quivering lip, but he couldn’t stop his sob from escaping his mouth.

(Y/N) moved to sit on the bed and wordlessly pulled Ivar into her arms, and without hesitation he accepted the affection.

He cried into her naked chest for what felt like an eternity but had really only been about thirty minutes, not that Ivar could be blamed for this; he had fallen asleep.

The princess carefully laid back and pulled the furs over the two of them, seeing as the fire was dwindling. 

As Ivar slept in her arms she thought of how she had found herself here; she had been so desperate for some peace and quiet. Between teaching Derja to so many people with different learning styles and your servants chattering about how excited they were to return home the princess needed a break.

So she devised a plan to get away; a simple plan that consisted of simply telling different people different things. Telling the servants to go to her chambers to sleep while she teaches the royal family and then telling the royals she was going to rest. Then she thought as to where she should go now that she was alone, at first she considered taking up one of the empty chambers but did not want to make unnecessary work for the slaves.

For a while she just silently moved around the long halls until she spotted Ivar’s thrall leaving a room carrying a basket of sheets. Assuming that the room was Ivar’s and the sheets had already been changed she snuck into the room while no one was in the hall.

Ivar’s room was very obviously his, and it even showed more of who he was than he probably realized.

Most of the furniture was placed very closely to the bed so that he wouldn’t have to crawl as much, unlike the other rooms where everything was spread out to fill the space. There was an almost infinite amount of scratches and dents in the wood works of the room as well as the furniture from years of Ivar throwing weapons around during his many anger spells.

The room was empty and full and beautifully scarred just like Ivar, in an odd way just being in this room put the princess’s mind at ease.

She knew that at some point Ivar would come back to his chamber and they would obviously address her being here, but she did not know that it would lead to this. Ivar sleeping in her arms, not that she minded at all.

In fact she soon joined Ivar in the land of peaceful slumber; in her dream she was chasing after a large beast through the fields of Tunisia to turn into the most magnificent fur for her husband, in his Ivar was fighting in a great battle, standing strong and whole and at his side he saw his princess fighting alongside of him.

Both of them would have been happy to stay in their dreams forever, but of course it was not meant to be.

Trya entered the room an hour before the sun was set to rise, just as she always did with her shield and a small pebble. And as usual she threw the pebble from the door toward the bed and held up the shield.

However, on this morning, there were more daggers thrown her way than normal.

Cautiously she lowered the shield to see her master was not alone in his bed, the African princess was also there.

Both royals were, as far as she could tell, undressed.

Trya...good morning.’ Ivar greeted as he sleepily stretched and yawned.

‘Good morning Prince Ivar, Princess (Y/N).’

‘Good morning, I hate to trouble you, but could you fetch my servants from my chambers and have them bring me a courtesy robe, so that I can leave you to your own morning chores.’ she requested politely as she covered herself with the furs.

‘Of course, right away your highness.’ Trya bowed before she left, leaving Ivar and the princess alone.

‘Well this will be our last day in Kattegat before we board the ship, there will be quite a feast tonight.’ Ivar said.

He had no intention of speaking on their emotional conversation last night, or the fact that they had just been in a very obviously compromising position.

‘I have been told, Leena and Kya are so excited that they get to help prepare a traditional African meal. I am more excited to go home and see my family, I’m sure they are worried, I was not meant to stay this long.’ (Y/N) said.

‘Really?’ he asked, to which the princess nodded.

‘When Sven proposed the marriage I agreed to only one week, if only to meet the man I might marry. It’s been a month, so I can’t imagine what my mother must think is keeping me here.’

‘I hope she doesn’t assume we are keeping you against your will.’ he said.

‘No one knows what the mind of a worried mother is capable of coming up with.’ the woman sighed.

The door opened and in walked the one of the Tunisian servants holding a white robe made of fine silk folded over her arm.

‘Princess, Ivar Prince.’ she greeted as best she could in Norse.

‘Prince Ivar.’ (Y/N) corrected as she got out of the bed.

This time Ivar didn’t look away, he had seen all of her last night, and it didn’t feel like he was doing anything wrong now. She had consciously let him see her full beauty last night, and she would also be his wife, there was no reason for him to feel guilty for looking at her.

However, none of that changed how breathtaking he found her to be.

The princess was dressed and politely left to get dressed for the first meal of the day, leaving Trya to dress Ivar.

As usual the room was silent as she helped him into his trousers but this morning the silence seemed pregnant.

‘You have something you wish to say Trya?’

‘No Prince Ivar...just that I am happy for you, in all my years serving you I have never seen you like this. So...happy.’ the thrall commented as she put on his boots.

Ivar thought about it and he realized that she was right. In the months since the Tunisians had arrived he had found himself generally in a good mood. He was no longer waking up to do nothing but crawl through the markets to watch the people live regular lives with working legs.

Now he had important things to do, he had a princess to make his wife and a boat to board; he had real duties.

‘Thank you Trya, I hope my good mood lasts while we are on the ship.’

Soon Ivar made his way to the high table, taking his time to look around and trying to memorize all the little things he never paid attention to. 

Tomorrow would be the last day he would see these things before he boarded the ship to go to Tunisia. From how everyone has been speaking of the feast that would be held tonight, he imagined he’d be far too drunk to pay much attention then.

‘Brother.’ Ubbe greeted as Ivar crawled into his seat.

Ivar grunted tiredly in response, taking notice that (Y/N) had not yet made it to the high table.

He also realized his mother was at the table quietly eating her meal without looking up at anyone, seeming as if she had no idea her entire family was even there.

It was the first time Ivar had seen his mother since he told her that no matter what he would be going on this journey.

Aslaug hadn’t really spoken to anyone really, not even just to fight with Ragnar; which was truly odd. Her silence was clearly her way of showing her disapproval of this entire journey, and it pained Ivar not to be speaking with her.

‘Mother, will you be joining us on the journey? I made accommodations for you.’ he said.

Of course he received no reply.

‘Her mood aside it is nice to see you and the princess are already getting along so well.’ Ragnar said.

Hvitserk and Sigurd snickered as they ate their meals.

‘What are you talking about?’ the youngest asked.

‘Don’t be shy brother, you two are to be wed, no one can blame you for not being able to wait. I doubt any of us could if we were so lucky.’ Ubbe said.

‘The thralls saw the princess leaving your room in a courtesy robe, good for you brother.’ he continued.

‘It has only just happened, how do you all know already?’ Ivar asked in pure confusion.

‘Forget all that, we want to hear about it.’ Hvitserk said eagerly.

‘Quickly before she gets here.’ Sigurd urged.

‘There is nothing to tell, we just slept. She wanted a moment alone so she went into my chamber, when I came in we spoke then fell asleep.’ he explained.

‘He is being truthful.’ the princess said as she entered the Great Hall with her usual party in tow and took her place.

‘Good morning princess, may I apologize for my sons' crudeness.’ Ragnar said.

‘No need King Ragnar, the one thing that spreads faster than illness is gossip. And they, as his brothers have the right to be curious.’ she smiled politely.

The princess looked to the queen and sighed, seeing there was no point in trying to have a pleasant exchange.

‘What will you all be doing today, checking over our luggage?’ Aslaug asked, surprising everyone.

‘Our luggage?’ Ivar asked.

‘That is what I said, I guess if my entire family insists on drowning we might as well do it together. So that I can be smug when we all arrive in Valhalla.’ she said snidely.

Ragnar rolled his eyes at his wife's dramatics.

‘I see must apologize again for my family.’ he sighed.

‘And again there is no need, she has every right to be upset, in all honesty I imagine my own mother will be far worse to deal with and I will be doing a lot of apologizing in Tunisia.’ she said.

‘And there will be no need.’ Ragnar lightheartedly mocked the princess's voice.

From anyone else (Y/N) was sure she’d be offended, but something about King Ragnar was oddly charming.

‘Why don’t you all go enjoy your last day in Kattegat. Say your goodbyes.’ Ragnar suggested.

‘Yes, go through the markets and see how many gifts you will get this time princess.’ Sigurd said.

‘Ah! Speaking of gifts, I have something for Ivar, the blacksmith gave it to me for you. He said he wanted to give it to you after the fight but it wasn’t ready.’ (Y/N) said before wordlessly looking over to one of her servants.

The girl nodded and left to retrieve the gift and while they all waited for her to return they gave their guesses for what they thought the gift was.

More than likely it was probably a set of daggers or some new welding tools that he was thinking about.

At last the servant came back but she certainly wasn’t holding daggers or tools.

‘What is this?’ Ivar asked as she approached him.

‘Crutches, he said he had been working on the design for a long time, and he wanted to give it to you as an engagement present.’ the princess said as Ivar was handed his new gift.

Ivar looked over the craftsmanship and sure enough he could tell that a great deal of effort had been put into each one. 

They were made of bronze, with oak wood handles that had very finely sanded as to not cause splinters and at the bottom there were sharp spikes that he assumed were meant to root into the dirt, but he also figured if he needed to he could use them as a weapon.

‘Amazing.’ he said as he inspected them.

‘Try them out Ivar.’ Aslaug smiled.

The first smile anyone has seen on her face since the Matrimonial Fight, it seemed no amount of her anger could compare to her love for Ivar.

Ivar pushed his seat away from the table before firmly planting the first crutch, making sure the spike was stabbed into the wooden floor before doing the same with the second crutch.

Once he was fairly certain that the crutches wouldn’t slide he began to pull himself up.

This was the closest to standing he had ever been in his entire life, he was obviously not at his full height but he had never stood this high before.

‘Do they feel alright Ivar?’ Ubbe asked.

‘Excellent brother.’ Ivar answered excitedly.

‘Try walking.’ Sigurd said, an underline of malice in his voice.

‘Sigurd.’ Aslaug said in warning, sending her third son a look only a mother was capable of making.

‘No, he is right, crutches are made to help men walk, not just stand around like trees.’ Ivar said, returning his brother’s look.

Ivar straightened up his position a bit more and very cautiously moved the right crutch a few inches in front of him before he used the strength of his arms to pull his top half forward; his legs dragging behind him.

He looked very focused as he did this a few more times until he seemed to get the hang of it, he stood a bit taller as he moved about the room, smiling with an almost childlike glee.

‘I take it you are pleased with this gift Ivar.’ the princess asked.

‘Of course I am, this is the first time I’ve ever seen things from this height, I didn’t even know I was this tall.’ he replied happily.

‘Still the shortest out of us.’ Hvitserk teased in good fun.

‘And you’re still the dumbest.’ Ivar returned in kind as he moved back to his seat and sat down.

‘Never mind all of this, tonight will be our last night in Kattegat before we all board the ship and sail off to Tunisia.’ Ragnar said.

The princess noticed a small, barely there, look of distaste in his eyes as he looked at the crutches at Ivar’s side.

‘It is and I would like to at last spend some time with my fiance.’ Ivar said smiling at (Y/N).

‘Why not spend the day with your beloved brothers?’ Ubbe joked.

‘I see you all too much for my liking, besides, she is better looking.’ 

The rest of the meal was full of joyful banter between Ivar and his brothers, every so often the princess would join in. Overall everyone, with the exception of Queen Aslaug, was in good spirits and anxiously waiting for the feast.

Eventually everyone began to go their own ways; the queen leaving wordlessly as Ubbe and Hvitserk began to speak of all the women they planned to see. 

Ubbe, Hvitserk and Sigurd left to see who could bed the most women before morning, leaving Ivar, the princess and Ragnar at the table.

‘Well now that we have a bit of peace, what do you actually have planned for today?’ the king asked.

‘I want to take her to meet Floki, it has already been too long since I’ve seen him. Between my engagement and his preparing to set sail with Bjorn we haven’t had the time to visit.’ Ivar answered as he grabbed his crutches and pulled himself up.

Again (Y/N) noticed a look of distaste come over Ragnar’s face as he looked at Ivar stabling himself; and again she decided not to say anything.

‘Come Princess, let us start our last Viking outing.’ the prince invited.

(Y/N) stood and her servants bid her farewell before heading to the kitchens to prepare tonight’s feasts, and Bintu went to follow behind her princess when she was stopped.

‘Bintu, it is our last day in this country before we return home, don’t you want to spend it doing something you enjoy?’ the princess asked.

‘I enjoy keeping you safe.’

‘I can think of another person you’d rather spend your time with.’

Bintu was visibly flustered as she looked around for a second to see if anyone else had heard (Y/N)’s teases.

‘Hush now, there is nothing else for me to do...with anyone.’ she said quickly, hoping no one would be able to translate it fully.

‘Then go on and enjoy a day of peace alone, see what else this country has to enjoy...I want you to have fun today.’

Bintu looked ready to argue some more but her princess would not let her.

‘I’m just going to keep teasing until you go, and you know it.’

‘All these years later and you still exhaust me just as you did as a child.’ she sighed in defeat as she left.

‘What did you say to her?’ Ivar asked.

‘Nothing she wasn’t hoping I’d say; trust me she will be enjoying her day with a mutual friend of ours.’ (Y/N) smiled.

‘Sven.’ Ivar and Ragnar grinned.

It was true that despite Bintu’s determination to keep her activities with the old man a secret Sven was proudly boasting their affairs to anyone who would listen.

‘Go on now you two, I will busy myself elsewhere. Ivar, be sure to send Floki and Helga my love.’ Ragnar said.

Finally Ivar and (Y/N) made their way out onto the markets and they were met with an almost immediate silence.

It would seem everyone was in shock to see Ivar’s face without having to lower their heads.

‘Come this way, to the stables.’ Ivar said, trying to ignore all the attention on him as he led the princess through the separating crowd.

‘Why must we go there?’

‘Floki doesn’t live in Kattegat, even if my legs worked it would still take days to get there on foot.’ 

‘Is your friend a recluse?’

‘Of course not, he is just…’ Ivar paused to find a word to describe the man that helped raise him.

‘He is just Floki, there is really no other way to describe that old man. He prefers to be in the company of the Gods over other humans, you will know when you meet him and meeting him is something no one ever forgets.’ he settles.

The princess hummed in response.

‘I believe I have heard of the name Floki...is he a man of power?’

‘Floki seeks no point in power, he feels he hasn’t the mind for it. In his eyes the Gods made him to follow; to follow their will and the men they favored.’

‘If not a man of power who is he? Who is he to your people and to you.’

Ivar laughed as the two of them reached the stable and he gave a boy direction to set up a cart to carry them to Floki’s estate.

‘Floki helped to raise me...whenever my parents fought which as you’ve seen to be often, mother would take me to Floki because she didn’t want me to be as my father.’

‘Why? King Ragnar seems to be a very good man.’

‘He is; the greatest and most famous man in our country, but he is not a conventional Viking. He has questioned and even denied his own belief in the Gods, befriended and protected Christians. Even now under his tunic he bears the cross of a Priest named Athelstan, the first Chritian he’d ever spoken to.’ Ivar explained. 

The princess took a minute to process this information as she and Ivar were helped into the cart.

‘This tells me who he is to you, but it doesn’t tell me who this man is to your people.’

‘Floki is our boat builder, his ship took Ragnar to England for the very first time, every man who calls himself a builder has consulted with Floki. His craftsmanship is only second to the dwarves. The Gods gave him the ability to pick the best trees and the foresight to know exactly how to build a boat that could cut through water like a knife though fresh bread.’ he answered.

‘So he is the man who created those ships, I must say I’m excited to meet him. My people… we see many visitors and wanderers; and a great many just jump on ships to far away places, but we have no way to travel independently. The boats we will receive in this alliance could change our way of living.’ (Y/N) said.

‘And the gold we will receive from your country will help us fund raids and wars that have long been fated.’

As they spoke the cart carried them out of Kattegat and the princess looked at this new scenery in wonder. There were so many trees here, and the earth was so moist compared to the almost desert-like village she lived in.

‘I wish we had known about the abundance of trees you had here, I imagine we will be trading some of our gold for wood.’ she said absentmindedly.

‘Do you not have trees in your country?’ Ivar asked in mild disbelief.

‘Of course we do, just not many, not enough to build anything.’ 

At last the cart stopped and the thrall helped them get off safely, making sure not to be too rough while sitting down the most feared prince in all of Kattegat.

‘Thank you for delivering us safely, take this as a token of my grace. Please be sure that the horse is rested while we visit.’ the princess said as she handed the thrall a golden ring from her finger.

‘Princess I can not possibly-’

‘Take it, you won’t find too many charitable royals boy.’ 

With swift reflexes Princess (Y/N) threw her dagger at the sudden voice that came from behind her.

The dagger landed at the feet of an old man; he stood more than six foot but was lightly leaning against an even taller walking stick. his eyes were lined with charcoal and his bald had was covered in faded tattoos.

His very presence made the princess feel as if she, a royal princess of a rich kingdom, was no more than a child hiding behind the huts of Tunisia once more.

‘Whew! I see this one does not take kindly to surprises.’ the man chuckled madly.

‘You can't fault her for defending herself, you are quite a horrid sight to a young woman.’ Ivar said with a glare.

‘That may be true, how many daggers has she thrown at your crippled arse?’ the old man snapped back in response.

(Y/N)’s eyes were nearly out of her head, she had never heard Ivar speak so rudely to anyone, nor had anyone ever been so disrespectful to a royal in her presence. 

Before she could voice her dissatisfaction Ivar and the old man began to laugh wildly.

The old man threw aside his stick and moved towards Ivar and wrapped his arms around him.

‘Floki!’ Ivar said cheerfully.

‘Ivar the Boneless.’ the man smiled as he let go of the prince.

‘I want you to meet someone very special, Floki; this is (Y/N) Princess of Tunisia. She is to be my wife.’ Ivar said proudly.

‘I know who she is, some gossip of Kattegat can still reach this old boat builder’s ears. I hear she gave you one hel of fight.’ Floki said.

‘She did, but I would be disappointed if she hadn’t, I wanted her to meet you before we depart for Africa.’

‘I’m glad for it Ivar, let me get a better look at her.’ 

The old man placed his hands on her shoulders and held her in place and just looked down at her.

Floki really was a very tall man, even though she could tell he was slouching and not at full height he was still stood almost a head over her.

His eyes were lined thickly with coal, but nothing could hide the age on the man’s face, it was obvious to the princess that this man had lived a hard life and known much loss and great sadness.

‘I can see she has the same sight as me… she is reading me just as I’m reading her. What do you see princesses?’ he asked.

‘I see that you wear coal on your eyes to hide the sadness in them, your scalp is tattooed, something that I’m sure pained you, but it was far from your truest pain. You are old, and a great many heartbreaks can be gained in a long life lived hard.’ she answered.

Floki smiled and closed his eyes as he let out a sigh.

‘What do you see in me, Floki?’ the princess asked in return.

‘I see that you have been raised to keep face in front of people, but you are more than a princess; you thirst for blood. You want to fight on the battlefield for glory, but you have never seen it. You are naive to how horrid it is and you know it...but still you want it.’ Floki guessed.

She was shocked to have what she considered to be her deepest desire exposed by a stranger.

‘I do, but if the spirits are kind to my people I will never see the reality of war.’ she said once she regained her composure.

‘She will either be the best thing that happened to you Ivar, or she will be the end of everything. Only time will tell which one.’ he said gravely as he looked between the young royals.

A pregnant silence filled the atmosphere and for a moment neither Ivar or (Y/N) knew what to say, thankfully Floki laughed.

‘Come on, Helga is going to want to send you off to another country ten pounds heavier.’ the man said as he dragged Ivar off toward the small house.

(Y/N) picked up Ivar’s crutches and Floki’s walking stick before she followed behind the two Norsemen and thought to herself that Ivar was right.

She would never forget meeting this man.

[yowlthinks]

As Epistolary Novels Go

**1 May 2020**

Crowley hang up and stared at his phone. Did Aziraphale just call him up to check that he was making mischief and then imply the invitation to his bookshop? Yes, yes, he did, the fluffy bastard was at his game again: suggesting an idea and then waiting for Crowley to pick up on it, making it all seem as if Aziraphale had nothing to do with it. Well, this time Crowley was having none of it, he was either getting a direct invitation to come over, or having a good long sleep at his place. As disappointing as the conversation turned out to be, Aziraphale (who called first, mind you!) would come round eventually, and a good long nap never harmed nobody.

Crowley aimlessly wandered around his apartment, watered the plants, imprinting on them how a two month stretch without watering and supervision was NOT an excuse for a lowered performance, and finally settled in bed. He figured he'd play a bit on his phone and call it a night.

At 10pm precisely a cup of hot cocoa and a plate of biscuits materialised on his nightstand with a soft pop. A note in Aziraphale's neat handwriting landed beside them:

«Good night, Crowley.

Sleep well and dream of whatever you like best.

Yours,

Aziraphale

P.S.: Perhaps we could go for that picnic when you wake up?»

- Hah! A peace offering then. You insufferable bastard… Whatever I like best indeed…

Crowley finished the cocoa and nibbled on the biscuits, they were in fact very good. Finally, he set the alarm clock for the 1st of July, 12pm precisely, and settled against the pillows. As he closed his eyes one big red apple and a note in squiggly handwriting landed on Aziraphale's desk.

«Eat some fruit Angel, it's good for you. Goes well in picnic baskets too.

X

Crowley»

**1 July 2020**

Crowley always liked a good nap, not only because it offered a chance to switch off from the busy reality, but also because of how nice it felt to fall asleep and especially to wake up. His alarm clock, knowning what's best for itself started gently vibrating. It figured a while ago that sound was not actually the best way to wake Crowley up, but vibrations appealed to his snake part and did a good job in ensuring a pleasant awakening. Crowley switched it off and started stretching his limbs one by one. Important things, limbs, very useful, shouldn't forget to activate all of them… as he turned his head towards the nightstand to give his neck a good stretch too, a neat pile of letters came into view. They were definitely not there when he fell asleep two months ago.

Crowley set up against the headboard and gingerly picked up the topmost letter: expensive stationery, neat handwriting and an elaborate seal on green wax all pointed to the only person who could have sent this (not that pointers were needed, Aziraphale was pretty much the only one who sent him letters). He opened the envelope and read the note:

~5 May 2020~

My dear Crowley,

While you sleep, I thought I might write to you from time to time to compensate for the lack of conversation. I hope you do not mind these notes and have had a very resting sleep by the time you read this.

Yours,

Aziraphale.

~

Crowley looked at the pile of envelopes and had a distinct feeling that he was about to read what is called an 'epistolary novel'. He knew Aziraphale was partial to this type of fiction, despite him actively denying the said fact (Crowley found the angel's secret book stash in that particular genre ages ago and noticed how especially well-used their spines were, and how well-stocked that section of the bookshop always seemed.) It was clear Aziraphale decided to ceise the oportunity to produce one of his own. He piled a couple more pillows behind himself and set out to read the notes.

~8 May 2020~

Hello Crowley,

You must be deep asleep already, while I find myself wondering how your plants are doing and how they will survive your nap. You did not mention neededing help watering them, so I presume you made other arrangements. For the record, on future occasions I would be delighted to take care of them at any time.

Yours,

Aziraphale

~

~15 May 2020~

Hello my dear boy,

Yet another week of self-isolation has gone by. I have switched to baking savoury now. This week I have finally mastered that old Quiche recipe! You remember we had quiche in that lovely cafe in Lille back in 1815 and you persuaded them to share the recipe with me? It came out really well, I will make it again when you wake up, so you can try it and give me your honest opinion. Otherwise, not much news on my side, just progressing along my reading list, you know how it is.

Yours,

Aziraphale

~

~22 May 2020~

Hello Crowley,

It is yet again a Friday evening and I find myself a little out of sorts. Perhaps, the lockdown is starting to get to me after all. I have not seen a human up close since that incident with burglars and I must admit I miss the conversation. Not with the burglars, you understand, not even with humans in general (I would be lying if I said I miss the customers), I miss cinversation with you, most specifically.

I do not think I ever said this to you before, not outright anyway, but I do enjoy your company, very much. I did not realise how very lucky I have been these past years, seeing you as often as I did and having a chance to dine and drink together whenever we wished, even despite the usual precautions.

I am very much looking forward to our picknick when you wake up.

Missing you,

Aziraphale

~

~29 May 2020~

My dear Crowley,

It is almost June, and I must say that I am glad for it, it seems that things are getting a little better in terms of the pandemic, but not really better in terms of how things are overall. We have seen protests, wars and revolutions, so it is nothing new, but it does not make it any easier to witness, does it?

It looks like yet another string has finally snapped. I do hope this is a start of a change for the better, but I am glad you are sleeping through this bit of it. I know how you dislike violence. I am saving notes of some good-natured chaos around the world for you, though, so that you can enjoy reading them when you wake up.

I so wish we could discuss all this in person, I hope we can do so soon.

Yours,

Aziraphale

~

~5 June 2020~

My dear Crowley,

Yet another week has passed I have heard in the news today they are discussing relaxing the rules a bit, forming 'social bubbles' as they call it. A 'social bubble' is several small households closely connected by social bonds, the idea is to allow people to meet up with close friends, especially if they live alone, for mutual suport and mental health reasons.

I think it is safe to say you are truly the only person in my social bubble. Is it not silly, how it took a major pandemic event for me to be able to say this out loud, or as it were, in writing? Yet again, I find that I have to apologise to you for being so slow to acknowledge this, I should have really been braver…

Oh look at this, me getting all silly, you will probably read this and be annoyed at how sappy my writing got. Apologies for this, dear boy, I promise I will be better in person: in expressing myself and also in making it clear how important your friendship is to me.

Missing you something terrible and starting to plan for our picknick,

Yours,

Aziraphale.

~

~12 June 2020~

My dear Crowley,

Another week, another letter to you. I have kept myself busy re-ordering the additions that Adam made and even reading through a few of them. I must admit, some are very gripping and I am grateful for him adding them to my collection. As you know, they are all first editions, so a good investment for the future, I am sure.

This made me think of how events and people in our lives curate what happens to is, what we come across and notice. I habe now ckme to the cinclusion that I should finally show you a little secret stash of books I kept for a special reason, I expect you'd be both amused and exasperated by my choices and my reasons for making them. I can't wait to see your reaction to it!

It is almost the middle of June, not long to wait now!

Yours,

Aziraphale

~

~21/22 June 2020~

My dearest Crowley,

The solstice came and went, so I have spent the longest day of the year reading and thinking of what we should do next year, circumstances permitting, on that day. You know, I realised I quite fancy joining in the crowd and spending the night among those ancient stones. Ancient relics like us belong together. We might even do the old silly abandoning of the shape and sizes, go really small and sit on top of one of those arches…

Oh, I should let you know that your absence is not doing me good: drinking alone is not fun, yet today I couldn't help it. It is such a nice evening and it has been such a long day, and I thought if I don't have you here to share ot with me, I moght drink and write this and it would be as if we are sharing a bottle or two (or five? Or is it seven now?) and talking.

So yes, where was I? Ah, Stonehenge… Imagine sunset, sitting on top of one of those stone arches, perhaps we come on the day just after the Summer Solstice, or just on any other day when it is deserted and have it all to ourselves. When was the last time we watched the sunset? It must have been just after that fateful, frightening day of Apocawasn't as you call it. This would not do, we should have another go at watching the sunset together. Let our wings out, pour some wine… The sun would go down and paint everything red and orange, like your hair! And the orange will catch in your wings too (and they are beautiful, your wings, they truly are!). And maybe mine will go a bit orange-pink too, the sunset will colour us together.

This is the wine-talking, I know, but I believe I am allowed to be sappy sometimes. I am an angel, after all, I am made to love! You know what, in fact I think it is wrong for angels to claim they are the only beings made to love. Everyone is made to love, otherwise they would not be capable of that feeling. Love is not a task, or a chore, it is a choice! So does that mean that when you gave humans free will, you also enabled them to choose love? Oh, I can see your eyebrows raising when you read this, but fear not, once you are awake again, we will get throuoghly inebriated together and discuss it properly! That's our next profound discussion topic (oh, how I miss our profound discussions!)

The other day I did something that I feel would make you proud. I was thinking of all those times you brought chaos to the world, and about what we did with the arrangement, and what you might do had you been awake now. And I thought, well, why don't I do something? You know, I have always been in awe of how imaginative your plans are. You know,the bigger ones, the really inspired ones with a proper vision. Remember how you rehearsed the M25 presentation with me? It was impressive, and you were so proud of it, I did not have the heart to thwart you, you old snake! And how you helped me with that blasted millenial assignement – they still hail Wikipedia as one of the greatest achievements (which it is)! So yes I might have sent some divine inspiration to some activists, but because I was thinking of you (when am I not thinking of you?) it turned out to be one of the most beautiful chaos disruptions of wrongness in the world I have ever seen! I mean, of course it was all done by humans, but I am terribly proud of what my littke nudge achieved. I have saved the news clippings in my word file and will show you once you wake up!

Do you know how often I look at the calendar these days? I am almost tempted to cross out the remaining days till July. And you did not even say when in July you are planning to wake up. Far be it from me to disturb you, I have brought you enough pain and inconvenience as it is, but I just hope it will be soon. The humans are on to something with all this 'social bubble' talk, and without you I have no bubble. It is lonely, Crowley, and this loneliness is starting to suffocate me.

Please wake up soon.

Please?

I miss you so much.

Forever yours, if you'll have me,

X

Aziraphale

~~

Crowley reread the letter twice. He even pinched himself to see of he was still dreaming, but no, the letter was real, and the text in it was real, all be it awkwardly slanted and smudged in places, especially towards the end.

Just three more letters remained on his night stand. He'd better finish reading them and fast.

~~

~23 June 2020~

Dear Crowley,

Please forgive my drunken ramblings in the last letter. I even tried to retrieve it back, but it refused to leave your nightstand.

I do not regret saying the things I said in that letter, I only wish I could say some of them to your face first. You deserve so much better then a drunken letter.

So let me at least tell you, in sober mind:

I MISS YOU

I WAS WRONG TO TURN DOWN YOUR SUGGESTON TO COME OVER

And that I am indeed forever yours.

Please wake up soon,

Aziraphale

~

~26 June 2020~

My dearest Crowley,

Just five more days and it will be July.

I promised myself to not drink anything stronger then cocoa since the last incident, but I have indeed started preparing our little picknick basket: some white wine, apples, and pears and some other things…

Yours,

Aziraphale

~

~30 June 2020~

My dearest Crowley,

I am writing this as the month of June is coming to an end. It went both fast and too slow (does that even make sense?!), and I am hoping that you wake up soon.

Please call me when you do. Or just come over.

Slither over to watch me eat cake,

Come and share my wine with me (or bring yours, whatever you want).

YOU ARE ALWAYS WELCOME, my door is never closed for you (it has not been for centuries, and it will never be, I promise you that.)

Please wake up, I miss you so much.

Yours,

Aziraphale

~~~

- Hello Angel, how have you been? – Crowley swaggered into the bookshop not bothering to hide his smile.

Whirlwind of tartan and white feathers enveloped him, and Crowley found himslef in a tight hug.

- Hello, you old romantic.

- Hello, my dear.

- Loved your letters, but I am never going to publish them. Not even under a pen name, they are mine and mine alone.

- What..?

- You'll have me, though, forever and ever. How's that for an exchange?

- Sounds fair to me. Now, shall I show you my news clippings? I think you'd rather like them.

[iwillbeinmynest]

Kisses Series - Bucky x Reader(f)  17

Part 17: “Come to Bed” Kisses

Author’s Notes: This one has me desperate for an Island get-away, for sure. Enjoy, lovelies!

Word Count: 1.2K

Notes/Warnings: Romantic-fluff, innuendos, 

Series Masterlist

 The honeymoon. A time of bliss and new beginnings. After a private ceremony with only their closest friends, Y/N and Bucky had been sent on an extravagant vacation, coordinated by Natasha and Tony. Two weeks exploring Iceland and then another two weeks on an Island in the Seychelles. Y/N hadn’t heard of it before but the archipelago was the most breath-taking group of islands she’d ever seen.

 They had only been on the island for a few days and already Y/N knew she’d never want to leave. Y/N stood on the back porch of the secluded house at the ocean’s shore and tried to memorize every sound and glimmer of the water as well as the smells and feel of the breeze on her face. The sun was about to set and Y/N was pretty sure this was what heaven would look like.

 Bucky walked quietly up behind Y/N but let her know he was there with a sigh before he wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her shoulder.

 “I want to be jealous that you’re out here instead of inside with me,” He started. “But seeing this view, I get it.”

 “Sorry, I didn’t mean to stay out here I just got lost in it, is all.” She smiled.

 Bucky nodded. “I hate to admit it but Tony really out did himself for us on this one.”

 “Nat helped too.” She reminded him.

 “Yeah, but I already like her, admitting I appreciate what she does is easy.” He chuckled. Bucky slowly removed himself from resting against her back and stepped into the kitchen to make them both a drink. “Telling Stark something like that might kill me. Coffee?”

 Y/N nodded and she smiled knowing he was just being dramatic.

 Bucky’s soft, barefoot against the wood flooring, footsteps were timed perfectly with the sounds of the ocean and Y/N held her hand out to take her cup. Bucky placed it in her hand with a kiss on the cheek. 

 “I’d be okay with faking our deaths and just staying here forever.” He raised his brows in curiosity. Wondering if she’d actually take to the idea.

 Y/N tilted her head. “But all of our wedding presents are at the compound and we got that china set we asked for.”

 “You asked for that.” He clarified.

 “You said you liked it.”

 “Of course I did. We were so close to the wedding I wasn’t saying ‘no’ to anything, lest you came to your senses and bolted.” His low chuckle echoed in his mug. “But seriously, if we could leave it all behind and stay here, would you do it?”

 Y/N really thought about it for a moment before she turned to him. “I don’t know. It feels selfish to say yes.”

 “So be selfish. Would you do it? Would you be able to walk away?”

 “With you? In a heartbeat.”

 Bucky took her still steaming cup and set it on the deck table beside them. Then he took Y/N in his arms and kissed her softly. “You know just what to say, don’t you?”

 Y/N grinned in mock innocence. “You were fishing. I only said that so you’d kiss me.” She lied.

 Bucky huffed and squeezed her tighter. She rested her head against his chest, turning her gaze back to the shoreline. Bucky set his chin on her head.

 “I’m kidding, you know?” She turned back up at him. He looked down with a smile. “I love you more than anything, James.”

 “I know, sweetheart.” He said, as if it were silly that she felt she needed to clarify. But it was to him.

 “Also, I was thinking.” She took a breath and leaned back from him, tracing the scars near his left shoulder- a habit Bucky had long since gotten used too. “On the subject of faking things, what if we went home and faked that I was pregnant? Maybe Tony would send us on a Babymoon and we can just escape like this again.”

 Bucky froze before he smirked. “You want me to knock you up on our honeymoon?”

 Y/N shook her head while she laughed. “No, no, just pretend to.”

 He shifted his weight, his arms still around her so she swayed with him. He pretended to be deep in thought. “I kinda like the idea of tying you down with a couple of kiddos to keep you forever glued to my side.”

 Y/N rolled her eyes. “Not ready.” She jabbed a finger into his bare chest- once for each word.

 “Okay, fine. We’ll wait but we should practice in the meantime.” He winked.

 “Oh, stop it!” She swatted at him while prying his arms apart and collapsing onto the deck chair. The wind blew her hair from her face and she instinctively leaned into the breeze. “Besides, its been two whole weeks of,” She lifted two fingers on each hand and quoted, “‘Marital bliss’. Aren’t you tired of me, yet?” Now, she was fishing.

 “I don’t think I could ever get tired of you.” His smile said he was playing along but his eyes told her how serious he was. The way she looked, the ocean air in her hair, the pink sky making her sun-kissed skin glow. How’d he ever land a dame like that?

 There was a moment where after a shared expression, they both looked out to the waves. Then, Bucky took a breath, breaking the silence.

 “I think I’m gonna go on my run. Will you be okay until I get back?”

 Y/N nodded. Of course, there’s no one around for miles, baby. Besides, I think we established a long time ago that I can handle myself.” She winked.

 He nodded. “That we did.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Love you. I’ll be back.” 

 “Love you, too.” She grinned and bit her lip as she watched him walk away. What a view.

 “Are you staring again?” He called from inside the house. 

 “I will always stare when you wear sweatpants. Get used to it!” She chuckled before relaxing into the padded chair.

*****

The next thin Y/N knew, strong arms were lifting her from the chair and soft warm lips were kissing her nose and cheek. She recognized his features and the stubble from each peck. Y/N wrapped her arms around Bucky’s shoulders and hummed. His hair was wet from a shower and he smelled like evergreen body wash.

 “Let’s go to bed, sweetheart.” He whispered.

 “Let’s sleep on the porch, the breeze is so perfect.” Y/N mumbled into his neck.

 She felt, rather than heard, Bucky’s chuckle. “We can open a window. I want to sleep on something more comfortable than a deck chair, babe.”

 “Fine.” She complied. “But no baby practice, tonight. I’m exhausted.”

 Bucky sighed but smiled. “Oh, I know. Lounging in the sun can really take it out of you.” He mocked as he laid her down on the crisp white sheets. He left for only a few minutes as he locked up the beach house and checked the security cameras but, then he was right beside Y/N with his arm draped over her. 

 Bucky kissed her shoulder and rubbed his thumb over the hand that was interlocked with his. He hummed an old tune that his mom used to sing him and they both drifted off to sleep.

*   *   *   *

Forever Tags:

@heismyhunter @sgtbxckybxrnes @pickledmoon @whimsicalrebirth @marvel-lucy @thisisthelilith @james-bionic-barnes @thedreamingowl @poemwriter98@kimistry27 @annie-lujan @buckyandsebsinbin @lilasiannerd @gypsy-storm-15 @cassiopeiassky @earinafae @the-stuttering-kiwi @obsessedwithatwell @shortiiqt16 @shifutheshihtzu @elaacreditava @nikkitia7 @theonewithallthemilkshakes @gallifreyansass @storytellingwanderer @palaiasaurus64 @iamwarrenspeace @engineeringgirlcve @magnolia-wanders @carameldaemoncakes @canumoveyourseatup-no @melconnor2007 @movingonto-betterthings @spideytrxsh @fantasticmiraclehologram @kapolisradomthoughts @iamwarrenspeace @melconnor2007 @yesiamdeliciouslycaffeinated @mcu-avengerrs @archy3001@mmauricee @barnesvogue @feelmyroarrrr @beyondbarnes @marvelous-avengers @veronicalei @cornflax01 @kudosia @witchymarvelspacecase@beccaanne814 @inumorph @thisismysecrethappyplace @artemis521@darkhologramblaze @palaiasaurus64 @awkwardfangirl2014@diinofayce @youclickedthislink  @lille-kattunge @patzammit @amiquette​

Kisses Tags:

@faunacea @encounterthepast @hologramclouds @k-n-e @wingardium-letmefuckyou @imagizibe @girlwith100names@livingoffsavvyillusions @buckyisthepuresthuman @lordemjay@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @buckybarnes4lyfe @baileythepenguin@lobveemo25 @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you @unrequiteduniverse@nerdygirlwithacrush @spnbettermakedestielhappen @winter-in-wakanda​ @wordacadabra @sueeatstheworld​

[imagine-loki]

The Slutty Webs one Weaves

Title : The Slutty Webs one Weaves

Chapter NO. 5 of 10?

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki’s Asgardian wife learns women write fanfiction about him on a trip to Midgard. She’s edgy for the duration and lets him have it when they get back.

Author: lokilover9

Rating: M

Thor agreed Brianna going to Asgard a good idea as Loki presumed and shielded her from Heimdall's sight as a precautionary measure. Before leaving, the brother's sat observing Little Warrior lead Tony and Pepper to the couch and hand him a usb stick.

"What's this?" He asked.

"A computer virus. My revenge plan was to disembowel Jarvis if you hadn't kept your promise."

Stark eyed Loki who shrugged a shoulder. "Don't look at me. I only learned of it this morning."

"It's my creation, pretty nasty and should be destroyed." Said Brianna.

"How nasty?"

"It bears the potential to wipe out most of New York's power grids."

Tony was momentarily speechless. "I'll do that and am overjoyed you two became friends."

"Me too and sorry for being so rude when you touched my stuff."

"It's alright." Said Pepper.

"No it wasn't. You deserve to know why. Loki mentioned the homeless people right?"

"Yes."

"Dory was the first one I met. Taught me handy street smarts and helped shop for my boy clothes. Ran away from home because her moms boyfriend was a jerk. I encouraged her to call one day and when she learned they split up, convinced her to go home. Really smart person. Dreams of becoming an Astronaut. Anyway, she had a big crush on Captain America and gave me her favorite hat as a gift. Then I met Muriel. A mean looking older lady who was actually super sweet and protected me something fierce. Beat this guy up one night for trying to steal my blanket while cursing him sideways. She loved Chinese food and taught me self defence techniques, like how to poke a hole in someone's brain by shoving a chopstick up their nose."

Everyone's ears and attention piqued as Tony wondered if Muriel was a distant cousin of Sasquatch's. "Hopefully not on live subjects."

"No, silly. On a plastic skull she molded a face onto with clay. I paid for the supplies. Helping police identify people used to be her job in Arizona. Great way to kill zombies though. Best to behead them like with vampires and guarantee they've bit the bullet." Brianna then pulled a gold bracelet with a four leaf clover charm from her pocket. "Muriel was Irish and gave me this for good luck. It's too big so I carry it in my pocket. Before meeting you guys, they were the first people who were super nice to me. I fretted their gifts ruined in the wash."

"I'm sorry." Said Pepper.

"It's okay. I was just a little freaked."

'And nearly built a cave for the abominable snowman.' Thought Stark. "We were more worried about you after the fact."

"I could tell by your happy dance when I woke."

"Hey, badass did one too. In the hall. You didn't see."

Brianna giggled. "Thanks to you both for everything and I'm sorry for lying."

"Meh, we understand."

"I meant about not having a favorite Avenger. It's you uncle Cootyoodles. That's why I sought your help first. The Black Widow was my next stop."

Tony pictured Nat teaching her how to yank teeth out with pliers and felt twice as relieved for keeping that promise. "Nat's eccentric and hates zombies. I'm way more fun." Brianna suddenly hugged him tightly and kissed his cheek. "Awe, Little Warrior. Friends forever?"

"Damn straight!" Then she did the same to Pepper. "I forgot to explain why you're a badass role model. Working so hard to become CEO of a massive company like Stark Industries and executing all that embodies? You rock! I hope to grow up as astute, diligent and athoritative. Maybe I'll run a company one day."

"You already possess those traits and will exceed my achievements."

No one knew that better than Loki who cleared his throat. "Grandmother and Grandfather go to bed early, Min Lille."

"One more minute, please?"

"Alright."

She studied Stark, pondering the best way to implement her request. "You don't have to do this, but… Not all homeless people are bad or crazy like others seem to believe. Many hit hard times and the world is so expensive, they couldn't keep up. No one I met lived on the streets because they wanted to. There just aren't enough shelters or resources available. You're rich Tony and could help them. Will you try?"

As Loki had succeeded with Frigga, those beautiful pleading eyes won her case. "You really know how to pull a guys heart strings, kid. I promise."

Loki wasn't aware she'd intended to ask this, yet was so proud of her. "Min Lille?"

"I know." She politely replied.

"You have to go." Tony suddenly stood and darted for the hall. "Be back in a jiffy."

"Meet him by the elevator, or you'll never leave." Suggested Pepper.

He returned and handed Loki a loaded Iron Man backpack. "More things? Shall I conjure a crate for the bifrost?"

They'd already given her an overstuffed suitcase of clothes and toys and Stark held a gift bag in hand. "Be quiet, you. It's a peanut butter stash. Does Asgard have bananas?"

"Yes." 'Thank the Norn's.'

Tony knelt before Brianna. "I would've packed some tater tots, but you ate them all again."

She smirked. "My goof."

"Rascal. Try to ignore a wee, bitty smidgen, you aren't into girly stuff? We couldn't help ourselves with you off to Asgard."

Brianna pulled from the bag a pink baseball cap that said Warrior Princess in tiny diamond gems and proudly adorned it. "You sure know how to pull a girls heart strings."

"I put some Motown CD's in there too. Teach Dad to moonwalk." Loki sighed, pushed the elevator button and Tony playfully whispered. "From a distance. In case he trips over his own big feet." He hugged her again and summoned Jarvis.

"Yes, sir?"

"Our friend is leaving."

"Goodbye, Little Warrior." Said the AI.

"Bye. Sending you a virtual hug."

She joined Thor inside while Loki shook hands with Tony, his expression saying everything. "Any time. Now get the 'bleep' out of my Tower before I thieve your Daughter."

Brianna shouted as it closed. "There's presents on your bed! I'll miss you!"

Peppers was a black t shirt with gold letters that read Badass Role Model and Tony's was a monsterous box filled with tater tots.

"Don't do it, Butch. If you cry, I'm gonna cry." ***** Loki had purposely slowed the elevator allowing her time to give Thor a drawing.

"Mjolnir in a field of flowers? Thank you fair maiden."

"It's a scratch n' sniff."

"A what?"

Loki picked up Brianna. "You scratch the flowers, then sniff them. The effect is most appealing the stronger you inhale."

Thor took a whiff and wriggled his nose. "Quite the nostril tickler. What should they smell like?"

"Try harder." 'Doofus.'

He took another, looked cross eyed at Loki and began swaying. "...Brother..you…" Then down he went striking the floor with a thud the tip of his nose covered in sparkly dust.

"Sorry, uncle Thor."

Loki chuckled at her wince. "The spell is mild and shall soon wear off."

"Is he hurt?"

Loki let her down to hurle the hefty Thor over his shoulder. "Us God's are resilient. Your uncle once endured a skirmish with the Hulk." After escorting them through a portal and delivering Brother oaf to his bed, he lead Brianna through a second into some woods.

"That was awesome! Will you teach me how to do it?"

"Not in the near future. It's very complicated, darling and I'd hate to think you lost in another dimension." 'Or vanishing one day as an angry teen with a troublesome suitor I dream of throttling.'

"Okay." Brianna nervously scanned the area. "Now what? Carnivores hunt these woods."

"Northern Alberta is home to many. Never go outside without me and none will harm you."

"But wolves hunt in packs and grizzlies are bigger than you."

He booped her little nose. "I'll smell them before they smell us and neither possess deadly weapons in interdimensional pockets."

"Where our luggage is? I tried hiding bigger items in them and the darn things wouldn't come back. Hannah was furious, but I didn't care."

"What did you hide?"

"The back wheels of her Lamborghini, Gallardo. I overheard my Mother tell Claudia she got it from her rich boyfriend."

Loki recalled from spending time with Stark this wasn't a billionaire's vehicle, yet financially unattainable to the average Midgardian. "I see. Did she mention his occupation?"

"Plastic surgeon."

Brianna deserved that minor victory and although he wouldn't encourage it, one cannot preach vengeance a negative path when mapping their own. 'Perhaps he'll be useful to the sluts after I'm done.' "Ah. Care to see what I did while you slept last night?"

"You left me?" She confusedly asked.

He picked her up again. "It was necessary and I returned, yes? I won't abandon you, Og Min Lille."

"Never?"

"Never, darling. "Loki headed for a shack nearby nestled amidst some bushes. With its crooked roof, faded wood and door minus a hinge the structure looked ready to collapse.

"We're staying there?"

"Why not? I'll conjure an outdoor toilet." He teased. "Sheltered of course."

"Ewww."

"Come now. At night we'll have heated beds and during the day, roast squirrels on an open fire."

She scrunched her face in disgust. "Blech! I'd rather eat tree bark."

"You'll get an awful tummy ache."

They entered the dingy space and Brianna instantly focused on the filthy floor covered in forest debris. So intently, she didn't notice the sturdier frames of the structure only visible from within. "How will we keep the door closed and is that poop?"

Loki rolled his eyes at some turds in a corner. "The cabin is made of Brazilian Ebony."

"One of the strongest woods on earth." She commented.

He arched an intrugued brow. "Stained to appear aged, it's also bulletproof in light of human hunters. Consider the other materials deceiving movie props. The 'raccoon' poop is genuine." It vanished with a wave of his hand. "Now, did you mean that door?" It closed and he conjured a deadbolt onto the surface with a panel directly above. "Place your hand in the center?" Brianna did and it glowed green, spreading magic from the center throughout every surface like glowing, emerald fireflies. As they dimmed, Loki turned around. "Or this one?" The floor, suddenly cleared of debris had a sliding glass door in the center.

Brianna gasped in wonder, glancing between him and the mystery beneath. "Where does it go?"

"Did you think a sorcerer Prince would allow his Princess daughter to dwell in a shabby old shack?"

"Ancestry aside, I sincerely hoped not. Even an RV would've been better."

He chuckled at her frankness. "And you worried of uncle Thor bumping his head? The shacks purpose was added safety should a need arise and to keep our secret entrance hidden. "Once the outer door locks, only the interior alters. To outsiders, nothing changes." It opened and he carried her down a mutedly lit spiral staircase, each step progressively illuminating the space below.

At the bottom, she slid from his arm in awe. "Shut the front door! You 'definitely' have to teach me how to do this."

Min Lille was referencing conjuring. Another ability Loki thanked the Norns she didn't yet possess, having confessed so before requesting Tony and Pepper's gifts. "In time. Beyond that archway, another surprise awaits." Loki followed and suddenly pondered Brianna conjuring a future dwelling for herself and that troublesome suitor. 'Lessons commence when your forty.' ***** Thor woke to find two notes in his shirt pocket. One for himself the other, Astrid; 'Sleep well, Brother? We won't be returning to Asgard just yet. Please give this to my wife? I recommend waiting several days, discreet delivery and a hasty exit. A visit will follow and when interrogated, lie. Tell her Brianna came to you and don't mention her ice concoction. Unless you enjoy Father's company when several fries short of a happy meal. As I planned our escape without Tony's knowledge, do avoid his unnecessary panic and Pepper seeking our demise, by not telling our dear friend? Min Lille is safe.'

"That shyster." He grumbled. Jane returned in six days as would Astrid to a missing Loki. Waiting risked a molotov cocktail interrogation. His beloved and coronary inducing sister-in-law, banging down their locked bathroom door while the mighty Thor coward behind a shower curtain. Plus Maxi Waxis training schedule ended in two days. Bribery assured those lips zippered, but Heimdall would think his hastiness suspicious. He called to the trainee in the middle of the night, snuck into the palace and raced back to the observatory like the looney tunes road runner. "Spend it well nincompoo..eh he, Max. Asgard is lucky to have you."

Guilt ridden over her outburst and already missing Loki, Astrid returned in the morning to find the note.

Frigga was preparing to join her belly dancing instructor when she barged into the foyer and flung herself at the Allmother.

"Bwaaahahaa! I want a divorce!"

"Hells bells and bilgesnipe testicles. What has my shameless son done this time?"

"Frigga, your language." Scolded Odin.

She patted Astrid's back. "Oh shush. As if your cursing hasn't scarred the servants ears."

[hozierandco]

Imagine Hozier x Reader: The Trench

[A/N]: Set during WWI, this AU imagine presents Hozier as a soldier during the First World War. Irish, he serves for the British armies and while on leave meets a woman that could possibly change his life for good.

Andrew Hozier-Byrne was a brave soldier, had been from the very first day he signed up a paper making official the decision he put his mind through: he was to serve for Britain. Not that he particularly appreciated the country that had repeatedly humiliated his native soil nor did he particularly like bellicose times but in Ireland, he was an idle young fella since no work was given to him. In fact, Ireland shared a common point with the United Kingdom it so harshly tried to take distances from: both countries were elitist, assigning the proper jobs to always the same people, the better born, the most likely to get a job. For other men, war felt like a relief, an opportunity for them to prove their value to the world, no matter what the cost of that sacrifice could be.

When he was given a number to which he must reply by now, Private Hozier-Byrne realized the whole process of making canon fodder out of the loud host on its way to fight because one archduke had not been lucky and got killed. The talion law had never been that cruel before. All those men willing to die to have their corpse being prayed upon by all those politicians who would never take one tenth of the risks taken just to keep on living. Naturally, almost organically, Andrew started scribbling words that soon became sentences, sentences becoming journal entries day after day. Those notes were supposed to give a face and a name to the men he would meet, those he would fear, those who would give him absurd orders and those he was supposed to hate.

In order not to drive insane with the unhealthy humidity that brought the days of November and the unidentifiable insects milling about in the trenches, Andrew wrote verses that were seemingly only written by his zeal for living, verses that could have easily made his superiors die of the sorrow caused. Ignoring that many other men, such as Private Wilfred Owen followed the same destiny, Andrew could not help but to write, sometimes wasting the rare sleep he was given the permission to get. That exhausting process was here to fill something he could possibly not have, something that scarce crumbs of stale bread cannot replace: the company of someone that was, like him on the lookout for the next assault against the Germans. He was craving for an ear he could talk about the tough hours of waiting for something, even a wee thing, to happen. About the tears he would shed when the twilight would eventually fall over the cliffs, leaving him thinking of the sweet coast of Ireland he had left behind. Simply about life and death being so close from one another and the harsh fight to keep away from the latter. The weight of his riffle against his thorax, he would dream of the armistice and of a brighter future for him in Ireland, if he was ever to return.

By chance, his name was to serve him once. His surname being Hozier, it soon captured his sergeant's attention. Indeed, not less than Clementine Hozier who by marrying Winston Churchill - a promising politician who, in despite of some men who saw in him an opportunist, had already showed to the world his temper a few years before - had become a socialite and thus, an important woman in the British society. Sergeant Mooney, a fierce Irishman proudly wearing medals he had gained by the past on a grim green outfit strongly believed that amongst his men was a relative to Clementine Churchill, a nephew perhaps. If it was not even remotely true, as far as Andrew was aware, if he kept mum, he could possibly leave for a while the dire fields of blood. Which he did on February of 1915 when some respite was offered to the soldiers who were for some fighting since September on end.

Through the cold streets from the North of France, Andrew ended the short period of his leave in a distillery in the region of Lille. Very early in the morning, he was to take a carriage that would inevitably put him back to the front. He had had three days that he spent getting drunk, trying to forget that he was a soldier now. He had had three days that he spent writing hollow letters that he could resolve to send to his parents and to his brother who had remained in Ireland. Although the French government tried hard to stop the spreading and the sale of the Green Fairy, many bars were still offering that poisonous comfort for broken men, prone to despair and nihilism. It is in that context that Private Hozir-Byrne had discovered the holy beverage. He was about to order another glass when all of a sudden, he heard, from behind him a sweet voice he thought to be belonging to his imagination:

"That thing's gonna kill you", a woman it was. She had such a tenderness in her features. Her age was difficult to guess, she could have been fifteen or forty. If Andrew could not tell what her age was, he could tell that a woman was a beautiful one. He put the glass back on the counter and introduced him, his hand reaching out for the woman's.

"I'm Andrew, dead man walking", those three last words had escaped as an Austrian psychanalyst had written ten years earlier as the expression of his repression. If Sigmund Freud had studied his case he would have drawn the conclusion that Andrew Hozier-Byrne, so zealous to live a few months ago was now wishing that he was dead. Now that he had someone to talk to, even for just a couple of hours, would he change his behaviour?

"I'm Y/N, sutler for the soldiers in Neuve Chapelle", the woman replied with a candid voice that made Andrew's face white.

"Nice to meet you!", Andrew replied to that sordid encounter. Y/N nodded as to say that she too was glad to have met the man at that time of her life. Volunteer like Andrew, Y/N had no skills enough to be a nurse but was to get involved in the Great War, one way or another. Her father had been a soldier too, she could understand more than anyone what it means to fight for one's country, but above all for freedom. She had become a sutler on September of 1914, giving a hand to more than one soldier in the villages of the Marne and now in the North of France, since the dreadful battle of Arras and then Ypres, in Belgium. She had seen bodies scattered, plundered from their weapons, making them appear to be gawkers when they had been brave, making them look sad when they died happy, happy to have been part of that humongous fight.

That meeting was doomed to no outcome, which made it even more intimate. Knowing that they would not see each other after that night, they could talk about everything with no fear. That is how they started talking about the war freely, the lost hopes, the victory that was so difficult to imagine once amid the stifling dust and the mice. If Y/N had been a spy or if any malevolent soul had listened to the conversation, Andrew would have easily been charged for treason against his country, or at least the country he served under the flag for. But even then, Andrew would not mind. If he was to be hung, at least he would have been honest doing so. His neck attached to a noose could not be as revolting as what he had been witnessing for months.

After a whole hour of a heated discussion about silly orders men were told to follow and about the beauty of the Irish coast, Y/N was called by the owner from the other side of the bar. "And now, may I introduce you to the gorgeous Y/N", he said in a strong French accent. Andrew looked at her as an improvised stage was now floodlit. Y/N advanced on the minuscule promontory and began a little speech that she concluded by: "To all the Irish soldiers, that song dedicated" and on that looked at the distraught man. With eyes closed and the voices dumb around her, Y/N sang heartily The Wind that Shakes the Barley, thus echoing to the morbid taste Andrew was given in as well as his melancholy towards his country.

Tears were forming on Andrew's canthus as the words were so precisely describing his feelings. Between the moment Y/N had started singing and the moment she sat back next to Andrew, the latter knew that singing was his own destiny. If he was to come back from the war, he would be a singer. He congratulated Y/N when she sat back. The two of them spent the night together, aware that the world was coming to an end, trying their best to delay the deadline.

By seven in the morning, Y/N woke up in an empty bed, hers that an angel had blessed during the night. During the rest of the fight that had torn apart Europe, Y/N did her best to get informed on Andrew's fate. Has he survived? She hated herself for she had not asked his surname, which would have helped far more than to look for every single Andrew fighting in the trenches.

She had no information when the armistice was signed and started losing hope as to see him again. She was still living in the North of France, thinking that if Andrew wanted to see her again, he would seek in the region, making things easier for their reunion. Which was a great option since that happy day happened.

By December of 1918, almost a month after the war had ended in Europe, Andrew wished to go back to Ireland. He still had some papers to sign to make official his departure from the army. In Ireland, a new fever impregnated; men who fought during the war now wanted their young wives and their future children to be called Irish, and not British anymore. Andrew wanted to take part in that fight too, with the same strength that he put into the Great War. From the fields to Ireland, Andrew had to cross the region in which he had met Y/N. He prayed that she was still there. When the two gathered, it felt just like they had never stopped seeing each other.

Three months later, the two moved in together in the venerate Ireland that only a year later became independant, far from the mud of the war.

[random-things-of-mine]

𝘈𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘦𝘳

Opposite Wally x GN Reader

This is a silly story inspired by a TikTok audio from @wally._.va most of the storyline credits go to them.

I had a link to the TikTok but it doesn’t work anymore and I can't find it back in my saved or liked videos so I assume it's been been deleted.

- - - - -

"Neighbor can you like stop ignoring me already I swear to god if you keep on ignoring me I'll throat punch you and throw you down the stairs and break your leg."

Opposite was in a bad mood today, he had gotten into a argument with Y/n and now they where giving him the silent treatment.

Nothing was or could be more infuriating than to be ignored like this!

The puppet was trying anything to get a reaction out of the human.

"Neighbor. Neighbor. NEIGHBOR look at me! Can you even hear me, am I invisible to you?!" He angrily shouted before going back to whining. "Neighbor...''

It was extremely amusing to Y/n, who purposely kept their mouth shut, suppressing a chuckle. They knew damn well Opposite was only making empty threats.

If he dared anything you whoop his ass.

They could step on the little fruitcake with ease and fold him like a lawn chair.

"Neighbor can you please look at me... omg look at this freaking bitch.'' He huffed out in frustration, before an idea came to him. "I will take you to go get McDonald's if you talk to me-"

Those words immediately caught their attention, as they nearly began to drool at the thought of getting a free happy meal. 

Opposite threw his hands up, on the one side he felt victorious for achieving his goal but annoyed at the reason why. It only took something as basic as food.

"Oh I knew it. I KNEW IT. I knew that would freaking get you, you fatass."

"Excuse you! Nah-ah you did not just say that." They glared at him, angrily standing up and walking away.

"No wait I didn't mean it! No neighbor I swear I didn't mean it. No come back!" He panicked, rushing after them.

Y/n was chewing on their fries, twirling around a happy meal toy in their hands, satisfied with the dumb minion figure they got.

Opposite was sitting opposite of them (heh!) he was sulking and mindlessly poking at his cheese burger. 

His wallet was crying out in pain as he had payed for the large entree of food in front of them. He had bought a lot from the menue just to make it up to them.

"Can we talk now?"

"Mmh maybe if you get me another McFlurry~"

The yellow puppet frowned, feeling the urge to snap the plastic toy they held into two pieces.

The human saw that look and protectively held the minion figure closer. Giving it a lill kiss to piss off their company.

"At least give that stupid thing to me!"

"It's mine! I'll bite you if you try anything."

...

...

...

Opposite didn't listen and got indeed his hand bitten by Y/n. He left the McDonald's trying to hide the fresh and deep bite marks on his hand.

Just another peaceful day in the neighborhood.

- - - - -

[ophliea]

' tell a story. '

                 𝐣𝐚𝐰  𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐠  𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐩𝐞  for  a  lasting  moment  before  it  shut  on  itself ,   pondering .   the  request  felt  a  little  foreign   :   she  could  think  of  a  thousand  stories ,   big  &  small  &  inbetween ,   and  a  thousand  ways  to  speak  them  aloud .  “  sure ,  ”   she  said ,   voice  a  whisper ,  a  heavy  little  whisper .  it  sunk  beneath  her  and  cowered  there .   her  own  voice ,  lost ,  a  little  distant ,   a  little  away .   –––    “  have  you  heard  den lille havfrue ?  ”    she  barely  paused  for  answer ,   only  briefly  flashed  her  gaze  to  the  other  before  moving  forward ,  hazy - eyed  consideration .

    “   it’s  not  very  sweet .   ”       A    LIE ,   :    she  found  it  strangely  kind .  the  whole  story .  the  notion  of  it .   she  wondered  if  it  was  wrong  to .

    “  it’s  about  a  mermaid .   she’s  young ,  and ,   she  was  trapped ,   sort  of ,   with  her  family .    she  couldn’t  go  see  the  human  world ,  not  until  she  was  old  enough ,  and  even  then ,  she  could  only  glimpse  it .  it  would ,  well  –––––  it  would  always  be  …   fleeting .   ”     &   how  horrifically  suffocating ,   to  see  fragmented  images  through  the  surface  of  the  water ,  to  see  what  lay  just  inches  from  your  grasp ,   to  have  the  sight  of  freedom  and  the  understanding  of  what  it  could  mean  to  have  a  chance  to  hold  it ,  only once ,  only  ever  so  shortly ,  and  be  denied  it .    “  she  wanted  to  see  it  so  badly ,   to  walk .   it  got  worse  when  she  saw  this  ship  wreckage ,  and  in  it  she  found  a  man .   he  was  drowning  and  she  pulled  him  out  and  helped  pull  him  to  the  sand  so  he  could  return  home ,    safely .  ”     a  prince .    the  man  was  a  prince  with ,  likely ,  such  a  romantic  home  to  return  to    :    and  the  mermaid  would  yearn  for  that ,  and  she’d  claw  out  her  own  eyes  for  that ,   her  own  throat ,  just  for  that .   just  for  a  taste  of  it .

     “  and  she  couldn’t  stop  thinking  about  him .   but  it  wasn’t  really  him .   it  was ,  i  mean  ––––   it  was  the  sand ,  too ,   and  that  he  had  a  home  to  go  back  to  there .    it  was  what  he  had ,   i  think .   i  think  that’s  what  she  fell  in  love  with .  ”    the  promise  of  it   :    legs  to  stand  with .  to  run .    to  get  away .   something  to  carry  you .    “  so ,   she  did  something ,  maybe  a  little  stupid .  and  she  went  to  the  sea  witch ,   who  told  her  she  could  help  her ,  sure ,  but  it  would  be  for  a  price .  ”   to  anyone  who  had  the  understanding  of  what  it  felt  like  to  long ,     to  feel  isolated  and  imprisoned  in  a  home ,      the  price  seemed  inconsequential .   to  call  it  stupid  was  a  hypocritical  move ,   only  one  made ,  on  ophelia’s  end ,  to  play  herself  off  as  no  fool .  as  not  the  type  to  fall  prey  to  wishful  thinking .    as  if .

     “  in  return  for  her  tail  to  rip  itself  into  legs ,   and  for  her  to  be  able  to  walk  among  the  people  above  the  water ,   she  would  have  to  give  up  her  voice ,  and  she’d  be  made  to  feel  as  though  she  was  walking  upon  knives  wherever  she  went .    and  she’d  only  be  able  to  stay  if  she  were  able  to  get  the  prince ,  the  man  she  saved ,  to  love  her .  and  if  he  married  someone  else ,  she  would  turn  to  sea  foam ,  and  since  mermaids  have  no  souls ,  she  wouldn’t  have  any  chance  to  become  a  spirit .   she’d  only  die .   and  that  would  be  that .   she’d  cease  to  exist .  ”

      her  brows  furrowed  as  she  glanced  down  towards  the  wood  of  the  tabletop  between  them ,  eyes  tracing  out  the  surface  imperfections .  it  took  her  a  moment  to  pull  herself  back  into  it ,  away  from  thought  (  which  circled  endlessly  :  to  sever  yourself  from  the  afterlife ,  to  risk  a  soul ,  to  do  it  all  so  carelessly  and  impulsively     ––––       how  totally  dumb ,  and  how  utterly  understandable  ) .

     “  so  she  did  it  anyway .   she  went  to  the  surface  and  he  found  her ,   and  he  liked  her ,  and  he  would  ask  her  to  dance  for  him ,  and  she  would ,  despite  the  way  her  feet  hurt  and  bled  from  the  perceived  knives .  but  she  just  wanted  him  to  like  her ,  and  maybe  grow  to  love  her .   it  turned  out ,  it  shouldn’t  have  mattered  at  all .  he  was  engaged ,   and  she  would  only  have  a  few  days  before  he  was  married ,  and  she  was  foam .  ”     and  she’d  fade   /    become  nothing   /    nothing    /     absolutely  nothing .    “  her  sisters  were  scared  for  her ,  and  they  traded  their  hair  for  a  knife  from  the  witch ,  and  gave  it  to  the  mermaid  so  that  she  could  kill  the  prince  and  let  the  blood  drip  onto  her  feet  and  she’d  join  them ,  again .   and  everything  would  be  alright .   the  mermaid  would  live .  ”

       a  shadow  of  a  smile  played  across  her  lips  now ,    something  melancholic .   withering .   “  but  she  couldn’t  bring  herself  to  do  it .   she  loved  him ,   quite  a  bit ,   and  even  though  it  hurt ,  she  couldn’t  come  to  kill  him .  ”   stupid  /  stupid  /  kind  &  stupid .   “  and  so  she  turned  to  foam .  and  she  ceased  to  exist .  ”

                 THE  ENDING  SHE  TELLS  DIFFERS   :    the  real  story  holds  that  the  mermaid  turns  to  foam  but  still  gains  a  spirit ,  by  virtue  of  her  selflessness ,  but  ophelia  had  always  found  that  theory  dubious  and  silly .  convenient ,  too ,  for  what  good  did  it  do  anyone ?   there  was  meaning  in  the  tragedy ,  and  the  suffering ,  and  as  much  as  it  ached  it  felt  a  disservice  to  cheapen  it  by  way  of  deus  ex  machina .     and  the  original  story  tells  it  as  such ,   that  the  mermaid  is  able  to  obtain  a  soul  in  her  ethereal  form  with  the  performance  of  good  deeds  for  three  hundred  years .   what  a  prison  to  be  thrust  into ,  again ,  to  suffocate  by  another  set  of  restrictions .   better ,  then ,  to  sleep  &  wilt .  to  fade  to  the  sea .  to  be  untethered  by  obligation .

MISC .     STORIES           &       ACCEPTING  .

[shcttered-soul]

"What'd you think? Did you have fun today, Lills?" Louie hoped that would be the case... though, after all of the cake they'd eaten, and all of the (barely working) 'Bintemdo' games they'd played, he couldn't see how she wouldn't have. "Oh, wait, before I forget--I got you a little gift." Inside of the box, Lilly would find a plush bear... wearing a pair of Coolness Enhancers. Of course.

     “Oh, I had fun, alright! I’m always having fun when I’m with you! And it’s all the better on such a special day! It’s not every day you get to eat cake in such huge amounts!” Despite many of the games they played together bugging out half-way in, resulting in another glitchy mess of a game to follow, everything had a special charm to it. It wasn’t ‘silly ol’ uncle got a knock-off console’, it was ‘Her silly ol’ Uncle that spent the entire day next to her side, making her laugh until she was too tired to do so anymore.’ Every giggle was quickly cut off by a yawn, anyway. And the cake was phenomenal, as expected. Anything made by her Uncle was phenomenal, after all. Oh! That went double for gifts!

     An exciting draw of “Oooo!” hung from Lilly, eyes glittering at the sight of a box. Her first present! She couldn’t believe this was happening! It all felt so surreal…Yet it was right in front of her, to her disbelief. Still, she pulled off the box’s top and immediately stared in silence with a mouth dropped open. Hands slowly lifted the cutest and simultaneously coolest bear she’d ever seen in her life, then gently brought it into her chest, legs naturally wrapping around it while arms did the same.

     “I’m going to love and cherish this cool bear forever and nobody can stop me.” Was said in a hushed whisper, snow-white hair already draping over its body as she rested her head on its. “Thank you so much, Uncle. I hope you had just as good a birthday as I did.” Lilly scooched over, taking the arms off the bear to sling them around Louie in a surprisingly warm hug.

[cophinelovin]

My Life Changed When I Met You Ch. 1

Hi folks - Here’s the beginning of a new, longer fic I’ve been working on. There will be 10 chapters in total. Hope you enjoy!

Also on ff.net and AO3

---

AU. Cosima and Delphine become friends in high school and their relationship progresses over many years. Cute, fluffy at times, angsty at times. Slow, slow burn.

---

September 2002

“Hey there, you want to sit with us?”

Delphine turned to see the source of the voice. She found a grinning brunette with glasses staring up at her from the lunch table, surrounded by a couple people she had seen around, but didn’t know.

“Oh, ehm...merci...thank you,” she stumbled.

The brunette moved over and smiled wide at her. “Sit here,” she told her, moving over, her gaze never wavering. “I’m Cosima. You’re new here, right? You moved from France? That’s awesome, like totally cool to be some foreign chick,” she rambled quickly.

Delphine took a seat, setting her lunch tray on the table nervously, looking at Cosima a little confused. She nodded anyway, answering, “Yes, Delphine...sorry, my English is not so good.”

“Oh, that’s no problem for us. This here is Sarah,” Cosima replied, pointing at the punky girl across the table. “And this is her brother, Felix.” She gestured to the gangly boy across the table.

“Hey,” Sarah said, taking a bite of her Sloppy Joe.

“Well, look at you,” Felix replied, eyeing Delphine over. “You a freshman too?”

“A fresh...men?” Delphine asked, confused at the word.

Cosima butted in, “Oh, uh, 9th grade. First year in high school.”

A look of understanding rushed over Delphine’s face and she nodded.

“Cool, well, you’re welcome to hang with us, right guys?” Cosima asked and her long-time friends nodded. “We’re kind of the outcasts here, so I hope you don’t mind.” She flashed her toothy grin at Delphine and the blonde smiled back.

“You are very kind,” Delphine replied, happy that she was making friends so quickly.

Delphine’s parents had uprooted their family to San Francisco when her father’s job transferred him. She had been less than pleased. Delphine had always been a quiet person; she had a small group of friends back in Lille, where she grew up, but for the most part, enjoyed her studies, and worked hard to keep her grades where she wanted them. She was expected to do well by her parents. They were strict with her and she always wanted to please them. The idea of moving across the world had not thrilled her, but it's not like they had given her a choice. She was extremely anxious about making new friends, especially when English was not her first language.

She picked at her food, grateful for the considerate, outgoing girl sitting next to her. She caught her eye and smiled, the brunette beaming right back at her.

---

January 2003

“Delphine! Hey, wait up,” Cosima called out, running up to catch the blonde as she walked out of school.

Delphine turned and smiled to see the shorter girl bouncing toward her, a stack of books in hand, her backpack hanging off one shoulder. “Bonjour, Cosima,” she replied.

“You want to come hang out? We can study for our bio exam together. It’s gonna be such a bummer,” Cosima said, catching her breath.

Delphine looked confused. “A bummer?” she giggled.

“Oh, yeah, like a total bore, not something I want to do,” she explained, her free hand flying through the air.

Delphine nodded. The way Cosima spoke was always so funny; half the time Delphine could barely understand what she was saying. In the four months they had known each other, they had become inseparable, best friends. She quickly learned that Cosima had as much passion for school, and specifically for science, as she did, and they connected in so many ways.

They walked to Cosima’s house, chatting as they usually did about anything and everything. It seemed like they never ran out of things to talk about.

“Mom, I’m home,” Cosima called out as she entered the house. “Delphine’s here. She’s staying for dinner.”

“I am?” Delphine asked, chuckling. “You did not even ask me if I wanted to.”

“Oh, you want to,” Cosima replied. “It’s taco night.” She raced up the stairs to her room as Delphine laughed and followed.

“I will have to call my parents,” Delphine told her as they entered Cosima's room. “You know, they are not as carefree as your parents.”

Cosima laughed. “Yeah, my parents are rad. But your parents love me. They'll totally be cool with you staying. And they've already met my parents, so they know you're somewhere safe.”

Delphine smiled. It was true. Her parents were glad that she had made such a good friend who was a good influence on her, so they had been letting her hang out with Cosima as much as she wanted, as long as her grades stayed close to perfect.

They flopped down on the bed, both lying on their stomachs, heads at the foot of the bed, their books laid out in front of them.

“Ok, so like, Mr. Leekie is totally gonna pull a fast one on us tomorrow and put some crazy question at the end of the test, like for extra credit,” Cosima told her, chewing on the end of her pen. “And we have to be ready. I want to show him that girls can be awesome at science too. He seems like he’s always favoring the boys in the class, and that’s unfair.”

Delphine nodded, “I agree.”

They studied for about an hour before Cosima turned over onto her back, staring up at the ceiling.

“Del?”

“Hmm,” she answered, looking up from her papers and turning on her side to face the brunette.

“What do you want to do with your life?” Cosima asked, “Like what do you want to be be? Do you think about that? I mean, I know we’re only, like, 15, but do you know?”

Delphine stretched her arms, rolling over to lay on her back. “That is a lot of questions, Cosima,” she laughed. “I think I want to be a doctor, or maybe a scientist, or maybe both. I don’t know. I want to help people, I think.”

“Yeah, totally,” Cosima replied. “How cool would it be to like, have your own science lab or something? That’s what I want to do, like spend all day doing experiments, finding cures for things. I mean, I would look pretty awesome in a lab coat, don’t you think?”

Delphine chuckled. “Yes. Yes, you would.”

---

June 2003

Cosima woke up early. It was their last day of school for the year. She had one more final and then she was free for the summer. Her first year of high school had gone better than she could have ever imagined. She had made a friend who she loved so dearly. Delphine was really special to her and she hoped they would stay best friends for a long time.

She wanted to show Delphine a really good time this summer, take her to all the best spots in San Fran, give her the real tour. They hadn’t had the time during the school year, but now, the whole summer was ahead of them and she couldn’t wait.

---

August 2003

“You want to go back to the Golden Gate Bridge again?”

“Yes, what is the problem with that? It is beautiful, Cosima. I like it there. We can have a picnic in the park.”

Delphine was sitting on Cosima’s bed, after she had spent the night. It seemed like she was always there, but her parents didn’t seem to mind. They were happy that she had made such a good friend so quickly and was adjusting to the move so well.

Cosima grinned. “Ok, fiiiiiine, but just because you’re my best friend.”

“Am I?” Delphine asked, beaming at the brunette.

“Oh, uh, yeah? I mean, I kinda think you are, if that’s cool,” Cosima answered. She flopped down next to Delphine, nudging her playfully with her shoulder. “We spend like, all our time together. I feel like if you were sick of me, you would’ve dropped me a long time ago.”

Delphine nudged her back, laughing. “This is true. Yes, you are my best friend,” she agreed.

“Sweet,” Cosima stated, getting up from the bed. “Let’s go then!”

Delphine giggled and followed her out. It really was a great summer.

---

November 2003

Delphine was standing by her locker, waiting for Cosima to walk home, just like she did every day. She glanced over and noticed that Paul, the junior quarterback of the football team, was staring at her. She gave him a small smile and looked away, blushing. Did he notice her? Why was he looking at her? Delphine felt a rush of heat flush through her body and she was unsure what it was. Did she have a crush? She had never had a crush on anyone before.

“Hey!” Cosima shouted, running down the hall. “So sorry I’m late. I got caught up talking to Scott after class. He was going on and on about epigenetic influence on clone cells, and I was thinking, bla bla bla, my gosh, Scott, you’re a bigger nerd than me.”

Delphine giggled, picking up her backpack off the floor. “Cosima, you think I don’t know you by now? I always expect you to be late.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Cosima replied, waving it off with a flick of her hand. “Shall we?”

Delphine nodded.

“You ok? You sick or something? Your face is all red,” Cosima noticed.

Delphine blushed even harder. “It’s nothing,” she told her as they walked out the door.

“Nothing?” Cosima replied. “Come on, no way, something’s up with you, Cormier.”

Delphine let out a small chuckle. “Ok, but you can’t tell anyone. It’s kind of embarrassing.”

“Aren’t we besties? I would never tell anyone anything you didn’t want me to,” Cosima assured her.

“Ok,” Delphine took a breath before continuing as they walked down the sidewalk. “I think I might, maybe, have a crush on someone.”

Cosima smacked Delphine’s shoulder with her hand. “No way! Who?”

“Paul,” she stated.

Cosima gasped. “No freakin way! Hunky Paul, with all his muscles and shit? You’re into that? He’s like the biggest jock in school.”

“I know, I know,” Delphine replied, “I know I don’t stand a chance with him.”

“Uh...yeah you do!” Cosima exclaimed. “Dude, you’re like a tall, gorgeous blonde. He’d be lucky to have you.”

Delphine shook her head. “Stop, I don’t think so. It’s just silly. I’m...I’m embarrassed,” she said.

“Nah, don’t be...it’s cool,” Cosima responded.

“What about you?” Delphine asked.

“What about me, what?”

“Do you have a crush on anyone?” Delphine inquired as they arrived at Cosima’s house. They sat on the front steps, setting their bags down on the ground.

Cosima’s smile disappeared as she rubbed nervously at the back of her neck. “This was about you, remember? Don’t change the subject.”

“But I told you,” Delphine replied, “So it’s only fair if you tell me.”

Cosima looked down at the ground. “Oh...um...I...I’ve never really had a crush on a guy. Never really interested me. I don’t know...maybe I’m just like, not built that way or something. Like not interested in that way,” she rambled.

Delphine looked at her with concern. “Cosima, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“Nah, it’s totally fine, it’s just like, weird, right? I mean, I’m 16 years old and I’ve never had a boyfriend or anything,” she replied.

“Well, neither have I,” Delphine admitted.

“But at least you’re interested,” Cosima muttered, looking up at Delphine. “Hey, let’s forget this. It’s bumming me out. Come inside? We can work on our chem project, yeah?”

Delphine gave her a small smile and nodded, hoping she wasn’t too upset. “You alright?” she asked, putting her arm around Cosima’s shoulders and rubbing gently.

“Yeah, yeah, totally,” she replied as she forced a smile. “Come on, I’m starving. Let’s grab a snack.”

She got up, pulling Delphine with her by the hand, their conversation pushed aside for now.

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